


Birds of Prey

by StoryBookMuse



Series: Birds of Prey [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing - Fandom, Red Robin - Fandom, Under the Red Hood
Genre: M/M, Multi, so much porn oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:12:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 72,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryBookMuse/pseuds/StoryBookMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Batman never adopted a Robin, we see what happens to Dick, Jason and Tim since they were never taken in and saved. The Court of Owls snatch Dick from the circus and forge him into the deadly assassin Talon; Jason pretty much stays the same and becomes the biggest crime lord of Gotham for the sake of twisted justice; Tim...without a Robin to idolize and the Batman to train him, the loneliness of his broken home get to him and he becomes a runaway with a camera. In other words, Tim uses his undisciplined, unmatched espionage skills and digs up dirt on anyone that he desires or is paid to investigate. So what happens when Talon gets a hit on the Red Hood and needs the help of an undercover, free-loading spy? Watch and find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hit and Run

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Хищные птицы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791399) by [AOrvat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrvat/pseuds/AOrvat)



> My best friend and I came up with this AU a while back (like a year or two ago, actually) and I completely forgot about it until like, yesterday, and I thought "Oh! Now that I have an Ao3 account, I can actually write that out for us!" So, here it is for you guys to enjoy. Ollie, if you find this, here's a shout out for you, because if I recall correctly, this was mostly your idea. Love you, bae.
> 
> There's a boat load of other AUs that we came up with too that I might introduce. But I need to finish my other stories before I start too many more. Hope you all enjoy!

Gotham City; the nastiest, dirtiest, most corrupt city in the world...or at least a close runner up. Not an unusual environment for Talon, just a different name and location. The sky was dark as it always was and the smog was thick enough to choke on for undisciplined lungs. It was cold... _freezing,_ in fact, in the dead of a mid-December night. But the scum of the city had been quiet for a few days; At least that's what Batman thought anyway. Talon had taken great pains to make sure the vigilante suffered a slow night just this once, and watched in triumph as the dark knight finally retired and sped away at 3 am.

Now that the Bat was out of the way, all he had to do was finish his own job; Stake out the target from his bi-weekly appointment and wait for his chance. 

 

...

 

 

Talon stood slouched on the cold railing of a balcony that overlooked a dingy, dirty warehouse with bits of graffitti littering the walls, with the stench of alcohol and urine lingering in the air. He was still as a statue  in his wait and bored. Very, very bored. But his man would have to come out eventually. He'd been staking the target out for hours outside of the warehouse where, right at this very moment, a meeting between all the mob bosses and crime lords of Gotham city was underway. He really should just stalk in there right now and kill them all; Slit their throats or shoot them or even plant a bomb. Talon's piercing, yellow eyes glittered at the thought and his lips even twitched in amusement. It could be fun... At least it would end the boredom. But a mass murder, especially a mass murder of all the organized crime leaders of the city would create absolute anarchy. Not that he cared about rusty, dusty, dirty Gotham City, but the Court of Owls wouldn't be pleased. After all, this city had a protector...someone who would surely avenge any tampering, especially from a ruthless hitman like himself. The Batman would rear up his head and surely hunt them down until he discovered who they were and tried to interfere or take revenge. Talon would be punished for that...possibly even terminated. Both options, needless to say, were something Talon very much wanted to avoid. Besides, it was needless for the rest of the scum to die, as far as he was concerned. He only had one target...a  _big_ target; Red Hood. He would have his fun yet. All he had to do was wait until the crime lord walked out of the warehouse doors and then he could play.

He sighed dramatically, letting out a huff of breath that condensed in the freezing night air, his sharp eyes wandering after it until it dissolved into the murky, starless sky.

He was starting to get restless now, he realized as he once again pulled a dagger from his belt and twirled it absently in his hand. The meetings never lasted this long. Dick had been stalking this guy for weeks and waited outside  _several_ of these little get-togethers, and none of them had lasted longer than maybe one hour at most. This one, the night that Talon had _finally_ decided to make his move, had now extended into hour number four and delayed him considerably. That didn't sit well with him. Hood was going to pay for wasting Talon's time, he decided with a sadistic smirk, re-pocketing the dagger with twitching fingers.

"What on earth could be taking so long?" he wandered aloud to himself. When he heard two loud gunshots and a muffled scream, he couldn't help but smirk; Hood was making a example out of  _some_ poor bastard. But still; he could at least be  _quicker_ about it.

Hour number five came and went and Talon was inventing more and more ghastly punishments by the minute: cutting Hood's tongue out and shoving it down his throat, spooning out his eyes, scraping the flesh inch by inch from his bones...  Finally, 15 minutes into hour six when he decided joint-by-joint dismemberment and forced consumption of the body parts was a worthy punishment for Red Hood's lack of punctuality, the massive warehouse doors creaked and groaned below before finally screeching open and releasing the various criminal overlords below.

Their faces were pale and one of them even fell to his knees and vomited into the garbage pile in the alley. Hmph. Must be a new recruit to have that weak of a stomach, Talon smirked silently to himself, still leaning casually against the balcony railing. The audience dispersed quickly, as usual (at least they never took their time with  _that_ ) and Talon grinned darkly as his target, always the last to leave the warehouse, finally emerged into the street and closed the metal door behind him. Hood was lagging today, he noticed; stretching languidly, cracking his neck and his knuckles like he had all the time in the world. The contrast was so astounding compared to Dick's own mood that it made him twitchy. And...just like that, the excitement became too much. 

With a single, graceful bound, he leaped and landed flawlessly just in front of his prey with a wicked gleam. "I've been waiting for you," he smiled alluringly with a tilt of his head and a flash of his predatory yellow eyes.

Red Hood, who had tensed the second the assassin landed, seemed to relax -to Talon's well-hidden astonishment- and even audibly laugh behind his helmet. He put one hand to rest on his hip without even bothering to draw his gun.  If he could see it, Talon was sure the man would be smirking -(the _nerve_ of this guy,  _sheesh)_. Talon had actually never seen this guy's face before; he always had the damn helmet on. Maybe he had a nasty scar he didn't want anyone to see for fear of weakness, or maybe he was just _very_ protective of his identity. Either way, he was going to find out just who this big shot thought he was. Even now he had to fight the urge to rip the damn thing off; he'd have his chance to savor the first and last expression on the Red Hood's face before he finally killed him; that blinding, familiar fear. Just like everyone else. He'd make sure of it. 

"Really?  _That's_ the line you go with to intimidate me?" the man scoffed. "It's so cliche, it hurts. You had me going until you opened your mouth," the man sneered, setting Talon's blood to boil. "Assassins should be  _seen_ , and definitely not heard in your case." he jeered. "Actually," he amended as an afterthought, "a good assassin shouldn't even be  _seen_. What kind of killer  _are_ you?"

Talon blinked in shock. He arched a brow and pointed the edge of his blade directly against the Hood's throat. "You're awfully cocky for someone who's about to die," he hummed, perplexed by Hood's lack of fear. Interesting. Was it a chemical defect or just stupidity?

"Humor me," Red Hood snorted, making Talon's skin crawl. "Come on, as a dying man's wish. Where on _earth_ did they dig you up, hot stuff?"

"Same place you're about to go, sweetheart," Talon replied with a smirk. Two could play this game. "The pits of hell."

"Ooh, how cryptic. Much better," Hood nodded in approval. Talon rolled his glowing eyes. This guy was unreal. How could he dismiss Talon's threat's and joke so easily? Was it a death wish?

"Are you going to put up a fight and attempt to give me a challenge, or are you going to stand here flirting with me and make my job easy?" Talon retorted without missing a beat. Before Talon could blink, however, Hood unexpectedly knocked his feet out from underneath, twisted one of his swords out of his hands and aimed it precisely above his rapidly beating heart. Talon stared up, frozen in awe; no one had ever managed that before. But then, no one had ever casually flirted over their own deaths before, either. Hood was good...definitely not a stranger to hitmen antics or attempts. No matter. Talon was no ordinary hitman.

"What? I'm not allowed to make a little foreplay? You must be one of those strictly 'down to business' kind of guys," Hood shook his head sadly. "Love 'em and leave 'em, right?"

"I prefer to think of it as 'hit and run,'" Talon grinned at his own pun before kicking the weapon out of Hood's hand, repossessing it and jumping up fluidly before kicking Hood into the nearest wall and strutting over with something of a swagger in his hips.

Hood grunted from the force of the impact and shook his head swiftly to gather his wits again. "Your sense of humor might just be a deal breaker."

"I can live with that," Talon smirked. Jason snorted before launching himself at the assassin, who danced almost gracefully out of the way before snatching the back of the collar on Hood's leather jacket and slamming him down hard against the ground. Hood retaliated by twisting and kicking Talon's feet out from underneath him  _again_ , knocking the swords away and rolling on top to straddle him and pin his wrists high above his head.

"You know, you look really hot, all sprawled underneath me like this," Hood commented slightly out of breath, reaching for the gun at his side.

"You think that's hot?" Dick taunted seductively. "You should see how _flexible_ I am," Talon added breathlessly before proving his point and using his legs to wrap  around the man's throat, effectively throwing him off and switching their positions. He smiled poisonously sweet and took the chance to press his hidden dagger against Hood's throat. Unfortunately, however, Hood had already reached his gun and had that pressed point blank against Talon's forehead, so they were in a very provocative, not-so-stand off.

"Aw, did you get shy?" Hood mocked when Talon obviously hesitated. "Or did my big package scare you off?"

Talon snorted and rolled his eyes before pushing off of the criminal and backing away cautiously. "Don't get so cocky. It's not the biggest I've ever seen."

"It's not the size that matters, sweetheart, it's the firepower," Hood sneered back, never once wavering his aim as they circled each other. "And let me tell you, it packs one  _hell_ of a punch."

"That's what they _all_ say," Dick replied quickly, darting his eyes to his two discarded swords directly behind his adversary. How was he to get to them without getting blown up by a Desert Eagle?

"So. Now that I have the advantage, you wanna tell me who you are and who sent you?" he inquired, taking a step forward dangerously.

Talon crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one leg with a smirk that screamed _I'm not stupid, asshole_. "Not a chance, Red."

"Shame. Can't blame me for trying," he shrugged, shaking his head almost sadly, if Talon hadn't known better. "In that case, you have a choice; I'd love to keep chasing each other's tails with you, but I don't have all night.  _So_ , you can either run for your life and hope that you can outrun a bullet, or you can try to jump past me and reclaim your swords,  _in which case_ , I'll have to shoot you where you stand," he explained politely. "Don't think I didn't see you eyeing them. If you think I'm going to play fair, you're dead wrong."

"Who says I need the blades?" Talon challenged. "A skilled assassin can specialize in a certain weapon, but the  _best_ assassins don't need weapons at  _all_. Why are you giving me a choice, anyway?" Talon tilted his head suspiciously. "That's not usually how you work. Red Hood doesn't negotiate."

"Did it sound like I was compromising with you?" Hood retorted. "I thought it sounded more like a friendly ultimatum."

"But why give me the chance to get away?" Talon insisted, honestly at awe at the stupidity and/or tenacity of the man.

Red Hood audibly chuckled. "I like to spice things up now and then. Now come on, what's it gonna be?"

Talon didn't answer right away, choosing instead to bite his lip in contemplation. Hood didn't seem to mind; for someone who didn't have all night, he sure did enjoy lingering to watch Talon squirm.

"What to choose, what to choose," Hood mocked. " _To be, or not to be._ And that  _is_ the question, isn't it?"

Talon could almost _hear_ the grin in the man's voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" Talon rolled his eyes haughtily. "You sound like some kind of cryptic poet. I'm going to  _be_ either way, I'm just deciding on the best way to make you beg for mercy." Hood's laugh was so loud, it almost sounded exasperated.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Hood snorted in amusement. "Since you're not a fan of  _cryptic poems,_ " why did that sound so  _mocking?_ "...and I'm no fan of awkward silences, I'm going to give you ten seconds to decide. Either tell me who's trying to kill me,  _run_ , or  _die_."

Talon hummed and smiled seductively, taking one cautious step forward. Hood cocked the gun without hesitation and Talon froze once again. "It's nothing personal, Red. You're just another name on the list. I don't ask why. I just have fun with it."

"You must be having a  _ball_ right now, then," Hood audibly smirked.

"You have no idea. You just made everything _interestin_ g," Talon smiled dangerously. "I don't normally need effort for a hit. The fact that you actually present a challenge just made the game significantly more exciting. My victory will be so much sweeter in the end when I finally kill you. You know; lose the battle, win the war thing."

Hood groaned and sighed. "Again with the cliches," he shook his head before lowering the gun and holstering it easily.Talon arched a brow and watched as the man turned to pick up the dual swords behind him and admire them in the light of the street lamp.

"Since you don't really _need_ these, they'll will make a nice souvenir," he commented with a smugness that made Talon's lips twitch in irritation. "I think I'll hang them up on my-  _guh_ ," he choked as a flying assassin leaped and twisted through the air to land a kick and drop him on his ass. The swords clattered to the floor before Talon bent over to lift them back up lovingly. He tsked loudly as he holstered them and turned back toward his mark.

"Those are  _mine_ ," he leered, kneeling down so that he was looking the man directly in the eyes (or the white eye lenses of the helmet, anyway). "Touch them again...and I'll make a sheath out of an unpleasant orphice."

"Kinky," Hood retorted with strained laughter behind a cough as he pulled himself back up to his feet swiftly.

"You have no idea," he repeated, pulling the man forward by his chin and pressing a fierce kiss against the cold metal of the helmet. "I'll see you again, Hood. Watch your back," he stood and strutted away slowly. "As well as your front."

"Come _on_ , can't I at least get your name?" Hood jeered out. "Something to remember you by?"

"First date not enough for you?" the assassin smirked in amusement as he cast a look back.

"You act like you're through with me. I'm kind of offended, I thought we were having a great time," Hood crossed his arms, tilting his weight to one foot as he played along.

"Not by a long shot, sweetie. Unfinished business leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Talon replied seamlessly.

"Bad taste? I can fix that," Hood offered with what Talon assumed to be a shit eating grin underneath that irritating, unrevealing helmet.

"Maybe next time," Talon rolled his sharp, yellow eyes. After all, it's not exactly like he was in a great hurry; He had time to make this the greatest game _ever,_ as long as the Owls didn't come up with another name for him any time soon. "Until then," the assassin saluted, lips pulling up into a soft smirk. "Call me Talon."

With that, he turned away, leaping gracefully back up onto the balcony he had watched from earlier and disappearing into the night.

 

 

 


	2. Terms and Conditions

_Bang bang bang_

"Come on, kid! On your feet, let's go!"

Tim's eyes jerked open hazily to the security guard's incessant snapping and banging against the bars of his cell. Arkham Asylum; home to the criminally insane and mentally unstable inhabitants of Gotham. Not to mention the compassionless security guards, brutal daily routine, undercooked slop for food and only six hours (more like four) a night of frequently interrupted sleep. He groaned and dragged himself off the hard, springy mattress that wasn't all that comfortable anyway. "Wa's goin' on?" he muttered in sleepy annoyance as the guard opened the door. Tim held out his wrists, as was custom, in order for the man to slap handcuffs unnecessarily tight around his wrists and yank him forward out of the cell.

"You've got a visitor," the gruff voice replied from behind him as he pushed Tim along down the hall underneath near-blinding fluorescent lights.

"It's the middle of the  _night,_ " Tim complained with a yawn. The guard just snorted and gave him an extra sharp jab from his baton. It wasn't the first time this had happened, to be honest. He had shady, impromptu visitors all the time trying to coerce him for information. Or threaten...or bribe...or would even offer to bust him out of Arkham. Tim smirked as each and every time he sent them packing with their tails between their legs. Whoever this new solicitor was was about to be sorely disappointed, just like the rest of them. Tim just wanted to get this over with and go back to sleep, he thought with a yawn of exhaustion.

They stopped, as per usual for late night meetings, in front of a heavy duty metal door. "Sit," the guard barked as he unlocked it and shoved it open to reveal a concrete interrogation room. Not many people knew of it's existence here at Arkham (most mistook it for a supply closet of some kind) but whenever a client needed a meeting with an inmate and didn't want to be overheard or disturbed, this was where it always took place if you could pay the guards enough money to keep them quiet. Tim obeyed the man without a word and planted himself at the plain metal table, hands outstretched as the guard shackled him to it mechanically.

"You might want to humor this one, kid," the man sneered as he sauntered back toward the door. "Otherwise, I'd have a body to explain to the warden, and that would just be _inconvenient_."

"Your concern is touching," Tim rolled his eyes dryly as the man disappeared with a sneer through the door, closing it behind him. He sighed as he stared once again (the fourth time this  _month_ _)_ at the blank white walls and white tiled floors. Blank, empty, and kind of dirty, but it's not like this room was on the cleaning roster.

"You have ten minutes," he heard the guard say suddenly to the visitor outside. He took a deep breath and sighed, trying and failing to prevent another yawn, bored, before right on schedule, the door opened and he heard soft, padded footsteps enter the room that belonged to the strangest man he had ever met.

He was young...not much older than himself, he suspected. And he was lovely...in a sharp, deadly kind of way. His hair was dark and fell in messy points all around his face. He was long and slender, but the tight contours of the black suit (which left very little to the imagination) showed off lean, lethal muscles underneath. This man was sharp and lethal like a viper. His face displayed exotic features like his exquisite curved lips, straight, pointed nose and aristocratic cheek bones underneath dark, olive tinted skin (obviously indicating some kind of foreign lineage. Middle eastern maybe? Egyptian?) What was most striking, however, were his strange, piercing yellow eyes with a vertical slit like a cat or a snake or...a bird of some kind. He didn't strike Tim as an alien and there was no way human genetics could do that, so...this man was mutated. And there was no signs of scars or deformations of any kind, so...how was that possible? Especially with his line of work... he shouldn't be this striking, this... _beautiful._ To be alluring  _and_ lethal was a sure fire red flag, but still...fascination was hard to resist.

Tim couldn't hide his open mouthed stare as his stomach lurched and fluttered in that annoying teenage way. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He'd never had a visitor quite like this before. 

The visitor's lips curved into a seductive smile, his sharp eyes not missing Tim's reaction for a second. "Like what you see?" he murmured in a sultry, tenor voice that made Tim shiver.

"It's not everyday I get eye candy," Tim retorted, trying to be witty, but failing to hide the way he cleared his throat or blushed light pink. The visitor chuckled lightly and draped himself into the rough fold up chair opposite to Tim like it was a throne.

"Can I ask why you...what you want with me?" Tim cleared his throat again and asked firmly as he could. 

"What do you think?" he replied unwaveringly, beating around the bush, but not missing a beat.

"Information, just like everyone else," Tim deadpanned, something like disappointment settling in his chest, but he pushed it away determinedly.

"Of sorts...yes," the man nodded, lacing his slender, gloved fingers together and resting his chin atop them as he peered over at Tim with his strange yellow eyes.

"What do you want to know?" Damn it, he makes it sound like he might actually let the information  _go_. The visitor smiled and placed one hand lazily down onto the top of the table.

"What do you know about the Red Hood?" he asked innocently with a tilt of his lovely chin.

Tim ignored the fluttering in his stomach and furrowed his brows. Red Hood? Now that was a powerful name;  _Dangerous,_ in fact; _Very_ dangerous. A name like that meant serious business...one of the many reasons Tim had tried to stay from the big guy before he got caught; He had been in enough trouble already. "Why?" Tim eyed the man supiciously. 

"I have business with him that needs to be taken care of," the visitor replied vaguely. Tim rolled his eyes.

"And why would I help you? I have no reason to want the guy dead," Tim muttered indifferently. In fact, with a guy that powerful, it was probably better to keep him alive, for better or worse.

His visitor arched a brow imperceptively, which had no right to look that attractive when it should have been toxic and dangerous. "Neither do I."

"So you're just trying to kill him for no reason?" Tim challenged with a smirk, ever the valiant actor.

"Just doing my job," the man shrugged.

"Not very well if you need the help of an incarcerated teenager," Tim muttered sardonically.

That made the visitor laugh and lean forward on his elbows to leer closer at Tim. "You're no ordinary teenager, though, now are you?" he smiled as Tim stiffened. "Just like Red Hood is no ordinary target and I'm no ordinary assassin. It's... _complicated._ Hood's no idiot; I need a tactical advantage."

"You need a _tool_?"Tim grimaced, unimpressed and slightly anxious at just how much the visitor was really asking of him.

"Oh, don't say it like that," the visitor pouted his lips. 

"Sorry to disappoint," Tim replied dryly. "But even if I wanted to help you, what makes you think I _have_ intel on the Hood?" His visitor pulled back with a hard look on his face and Tim never wavered despite the ferocious glare. "Like you said, he's not an idiot. He's not an easy one to just follow around." The visitor grunted, unable to deny it from his own experience, Tim guessed.

"Neither was Batman," he finally retorted, making Tim jolt.

"How did you- that information was _sealed_ -"

"I didn't do it _legally_ , obviously," the man rolled his eyes. "I've read your so called  _hidden_  record and I know all about you. I know you acquired the alias of Tim Jackson, aka _The Informant_ , and followed him around for years when you first started out. I know you know who he is, I know you know everything about him. I know that when it got out that _Tim Drake_ knew and Batman and every criminal in Gotham started hunting you down, you opted to come _here_  of all places under the name of your alias for your own safety.  I don't know how you figured _Arkham_ is the safest place for you, but-"

"Because as dirty and overrun with criminals as it is, this is the tightest security facility in the country. I'm in solitary for a _reason._ Not even  _you_ would have gotten to me without paying the warden off. Or killing him, I guess. Whatever the hell you did to get in here."

"Fair point," the man hummed with a nod. "But if you can't or _won't_ help me, how do you know I won't just kill _you_?" the man asked, tapping his fingers on the cold table absently.

"Because you need me," Tim replied, squaring his shoulders intently. "You didn't go through all the trouble it took to track me down just to disregard me. I'm valuable and you know it," he crossed his arms with a wining smirk.

"Not if you can't give me the information I need," the man stood, unsheathing a silver dagger and twisting it dangerously in his hand.

Tim's eyes widened and he cursed silently  as his heart began to hammer in his chest. Threats to his life were nothing new, but...still, they weren't always empty threats and he could tell this guy could and _would_ kill him given the chance. "Just because I don't  _have_ it doesn't mean I can't  _get_ it," he snapped, unable to back away because of the handcuffs keeping him in place. The visitor paused and tilted his lovely head with a thoughtful expression.

"Is that an offer?" he hummed, dangerously polite.

"No. It's just a fact," Tim retorted, narrowing his eyes and swallowing the terror like a pro. "Whether or not I'll do it for you depends on the price you're willing to pay."

"I don't think you're in a position to negotiate, darling," the man reminded, pressing the sharp tip of the dagger against Tim's shoulder lightly.

Tim shivered but remained stoic. "Oh, but I am. If you kill me, you have nothing. You could always find another sap to go undercover for you, I'm sure, but none of them are _half_ as good as I am." The man narrowed his eyes but otherwise remained silent and still with his dagger never moving from Tim's skin. "So...what'll it be?

The man leaned close and murmured poisonously soft into his ear. "Name your price."

" _Leverage_ ," Tim retorted instantly and without hesitation underneath the blade, trying not to shiver.

"Leverage?" the man repeated questioningly.

"Yes. Tactical advantage is a precious thing. I don't mind getting my hands dirty, but I need more than just your word for protection," Tim narrowed his eyes mysteriously.

"Meaning?" the man challenged with a sneer.

You want my services for information on someone else, the price is that I get all the information on  _you_." Tim would have crossed his arms if he could. Damn the shackles.

" _What_?"  _  
_

"You heard me."

The visitor was dead silent, staring intently down at him. Tim could see his wrist twitch and his dangerous yellow eyes flash as he processed the terms inside his head. "You...want to be able to blackmail me in case I double cross you?"

"Not necessarily. Well... _yes_ , but not entirely," Tim amended, humming thoughtfully. "It's also in case you kill me, in which case they'll find documented records of your existence and know exactly who you are, who you work for and where to find you. It's also because I am genuinely interested in each and every one of my clients. I just enjoy having the knowledge to my advantage," he smirked, lacing his fingers together while his shackles clanked together.

"You wouldn't be allowed to live if I told you," the man warned, the dagger gleamed at his side as if to emphasize. "The people I work for..I'll have kill you, and it won't be _quick_. I'll have to torture you until you tell me where your documents are and have them all taken and destroyed."

"I can handle myself. After the job, you'll never see me again, I'll make sure of it" Tim promised, blinking as his new client's dangerous eyes flashed. "But...You can always say no and the whole thing can be avoided. I'm not changing the terms," Tim responded firmly, though not un-politely. "You just need to figure out how badly you want the Red Hood."

The visitor's face twisted in hesitation and he ran gloved fingers through his black locks in irritation. Tim noted that silently as a behavioral flaw from the allegedly perfect assasin. "Fine," the visitor snapped back finally. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Where do you want me to start?"

"For now?" Tim eyed the big metal door as the guard's voice murmured to another outside. "Let's start with just your name. The rest will come later after you get me out of here."

The visitor snorted softly and rolled his eyes before grabbing the chain-lined cuffs and ripping them apart easily to free Tim's hands. "I'm called Talon."

Tim stared in shock at the shattered metal. This man was  _powerful,_ he realized as he rubbed his raw, aching wrists. Still, he wasn't about to let himself be intimidated...not while he only just barely maintained the upper hand."Cut the crap. I want your  _real_ name."

Talon exhaled sharply in annoyance as he shoved the black locks of hair out of his face. "My name is ...Dick."

"Dick," Tim repeated, tilting his head as the words shaped themselves on his lips. How absurdly...simply and inelegant compared to how exquisite the man it belonged to was.  "Well, _Dick_ , it's nice to meet you," he extended his small hand, which Dick took and shook stiffly. "Now. Are you going to get me out of here or what?" Dick's yellow eyes glittered dangerously as he smiled, drawing his dual swords just as the door opened  to the guard snapping "Time's up!"


	3. Payment Plan

Daylight: Dick used to love the daylight. Back in his younger, happier days, he was always outside playing under the hot sun; walking on his hands in the grass, playing a game of keep-away from the clowns as they chased him through the tents or simply just snoozing with the elephants before the night fell and the show started. But that was a long time ago. There was no joy in sunlight now, there was hardly ever real joy at all, except in the cheap thrill of a kill...but he had been painfully taught to enjoy that experience. He was a creature of the night now, and sunlight hurt him in more ways than just a painful memory. His bright yellow eyes, so convenient and precise in their mutation in the hunt of a dark night, couldn't bear the intensity of the light outside (which was hardly a surprise, there was a reason owls are nocturnal).  So now that the sun had risen, Dick made sure the musty red hotel curtains were shut tight against the light of dawn. He didn't even turn around until the door was locked three times over. That was apparently Tim's cue to switch on the meager little lamp by the bed to dimly illuminate the cheap, green and red floral-wallpapered hotel room. Dick blinked, but this light was nowhere near as harsh as the sun, and it was far easier to get used to  than the fluorescent lights at Arkham had been. Not that Tim needed to know that. 

But of course, Tim was perceptive as he was ingenious. "Those eyes...they must process light differently than normal," he commented casually, standing in the middle of the room but careful to give Dick a respectful berth. Dick should have expected this from the best detective short only of Batman himself, but he was used to people (if he had to confront them at all) just staring in fear at his eyes; no one had ever actually  _inquired_ about them. "You winced at the sky as we were coming in and your eyes dilated improperly to the lamplight. I originally thought they were similar to snake eyes or cat eyes...but neither of them are photosensitive,so-"

"Owl eyes," Dick cut him off, arching an eyebrow, impressed and irritated at the same time. "They're the reason I can see in the dark." Tim nodded thoughtfully and Dick brushed past him purposely too close on his way to flop down on top of the floral quilt on the bed. He groaned and shifted as he let his body sprawl out with one leg over the edge and both hands resting above his lovely head which was tilted comfortably against the pillows. He smiled almost seductively when he caught Tim scrupulously watching him, still wringing his hands together uncertainly in the center of the small room. The boy was still clad in the bright orange jumpsuit that clashed so spectacularly with the rosy walls, which almost made Dick want to wince again, but he suppressed the urge easily. Maybe he should just take them off. ...Now _there_ was an entertaining thought, he smirked to himself.

 "You just going to stare at me all night, Timmy?" he snarked, hiding a chuckle when his sharp eyes detected a slight flush rising in the boy's cheeks. "Or are we going to get down to business?"

Tim audibly cleared his throat and straightened up. "I-...shut up," the boy ordered him with a mutter that almost made Dick laugh. This kid might be fun after all, he smirked to himself privately as he let his eyes roam freely down and up Tim's hideously dressed (though not quite unattractive) physique. That earned another pink blush to nicely tint Tim's cheeks once again.

"Come on," Dick beckoned with an arch of his elegant brow. "Come sit so we can talk," he insisted, patting the sliver of space left just beside his lap. Tim could be seen visibly rolling his eyes, but only to hide the nervous fidget of his fingers as he moved forward to take Dick's invitation. Dick, with his exceptionally sharp sight, could see every hair follicle on the boy's arm raised on edge, and rolled his exceptionaleyes as Tim finally took a seat not beside him, but at the foot of the bed. As if that were the safest position.  _Ha_. But then again, around Talon,  _no_ position was safe.

 For a moment, there was complete, intense silence between the two. Tim could be seen chewing hesitantly on the inside of his cheek and even shifting uncomfortably as Dick just smirked with his unwavering, expectant stare. But to the boy's credit, he was stubborn and willful for not even once backing down and looking away. Good. He'd need that trait to get to Red Hood who, he had discovered during the early days of his surveillance, particularly enjoyed the company of boys like this. Red Hood never did care for the overly timid ones. Tim really had been an extraordinary find in more ways than one. Aside from the specific expertise Tim very conveniently possessed (which he wasn't really searching for at the time; if he really wanted to kill Hood right now by himself, he could. But where was the fun in that?), he had fallen perfectly under what Dick had learned to classify as Hood's type. More than once, he caught the crime lord with a pretty, dark haired beauty at his side. Sometimes men, sometimes women, all of different ages but generally with the same physique. His first choice to infiltrate the Red Hood had immediately been Cat Woman; she met the physique of dark hair and compact, litheness of the body, but then he realized that Red Hood probably already knew her. Or  _about_ her at least. Criminals knew their fellow criminals in this city. Plus, the Cat was always followed closely by the Bat and that was the last thing Dick needed. He had then entertained the thought about seducing the man himself. He fit the criteria, of course, but Dick was anything but subtle. Or patient. He'd jump the gun to early and blow the whole thing. It was a shame though, he smirked to himself, for not getting into those pants before he ruined his chances by jumping him two nights ago. So now that Dick had found his new little accomplice with  _espionage_  as his specific skill set, it was too perfect. The brat was a pain in the ass to get to, but as valuable as he was, it was worth one extra dead body of a security guard and the thousands of dollars it took to bribe silence from the warden. That also made the game much more complicated... because Tim was more valuable than just bait like he had initially planned. Plus, he literally just sold his soul (or all the information about it, anyway) in exchange for the boy's services. He had to be very careful about how he played this.

It had been exactly two minutes of silent staring at each other at this point, until at last, just as Tim opened his attractively pink lips to speak, Dick cut him off (which earned him an annoyed look from the younger). "So, baby, do I pay you before or after?" his lips twitched as he watched Tim's cheeks darken at the innuendo.

Tim cleared his throat and replied as firmly as he could through his blush. "Actually, I've come up with a payment plan." The boy never missed a beat, did he?

"Oh?" Dick arched a brow in interest as he pulled himself to sit up and edge slowly into Tim's personal space. He could see Tim's shoulders tense up and hear his breath stutter, which made him smile. He loved having this effect on people; it always did give him certain advantages like making interrogation and getting laid pretty easy.

"Yeah," Tim replied in a soft breath before clearing his throat, shifting just enough to distance himself a few inches and repeating it more sternly. "Yes. But first, I need to know what your plan is." 

"My plan?" Dick hummed, examining the lining of the gauntlets at the tips of his fingers as though he were only half paying attention.

"Yes, Dick, your plan," Tim furrowed his brows in a hard line as Dick tried to ignore the discomfort of the boy calling out his real name. That was the last piece of himself he had left, and now he had given it to some brilliant and equally bratty teenager. 

Dick didn't answer right away. He took a moment to stretch languidly, crack his neck and lean in to settle ever closer to Tim (who was running out of space to pull away). "My plan," he repeated softly. "That's easy. I want you to fuck the Red Hood." Tim's eyes widened, clearly taken aback.

"Wait... _what_?" He protested. "That was never-"

"I said I wanted you to infiltrate him and spy on him for me," Dick interrupted smoothly, staring the boy down with his piercing yellow eyes. "The easiest way to weasel your way in and find out every dirty secret is seduction. And honey, you're exactly his type," Dick smirked, eyes flashing deviously.

"But I- that's not my  _area_ , and I'm-...who said I was even... _you know_?" He sputtered, making Dick laugh out loud.

"You're joking right?" Dick snorted in amusement. "First of all, you should have learned by now that when someone pays you to do dirty work, you don't back out because of _personal_ _preferences_. And second," and this was the part where Dick's grin turned feral. Just like that, faster than Tim could blink, Dick had snatched Tim's shoulders, twisted him down and around in order to climb on top and pin his wrists above his head much like Hood had done to Dick himself two nights ago. Dick's muscles were coiled tight with the same excitement, too, and the thrill of having Tim, perfectly disciplined Tim like this at his mercy almost eclipsed his current line of thought. At least until he felt the evidence he had been searching for as he massaged his palm against Tim's groin. "Second," he continued. "You're kidding yourself if you think I haven't seen the way you've been eyeing me all night," he purred into the boy's ear, feeling him shiver underneath. "It's okay. You don't have to lie to me."

"I-..." Tim choked, struggling to escape Dick's grip but putting up a pretty weak fight. 

"You what?" Dick murmured, tilting his head with a far from innocent smile.

"I just- I've never, um-" with every word, Tim seemed to grow redder and redder, which made the way he bit his lip almost too enticing to be fair, in Dick's opinion. "I don't know  _how_ ," Tim admitted with a final squeak,finally managing to push Dick's hand away. 

Oh.

Well, that certainly wasn't expected. It didn't exactly put him off; quite the opposite actually. But it did put a bit of a complication in his scheme.

"Hmm...does that mean you can't do your job?" Dick replied in a sultry, dangerous voice, making Tim squirm even more underneath him. "Does that mean I broke you out of Arkham for  _nothing_?" Dick's pin on Tim's wrists had become painfully tight now, but Tim had suddenly stopped squirming and became completely still.

"No...no, of course not," he whispered back. Dick, if he tried, could almost hear the frantic pounding of the boy's heart beneath him. "I just- isn't there any other  _way_? I'm-..." Tim finally broke and cast his eyes away. "I can stalk him all day and night and find out everything I can-"

"I've already done that, sweetheart," Dick cut him off flatly. "There's only so much you can learn from stalking a masked man."

"I stalked  _Batman_ , didn't I? I learned  _everything_ about him," Tim objected, turning his head up to stare back once again with fire back in his eyes.

"This isn't Batman we're after," Dick growled. "This is the Red Hood, the Prince of Gotham's underground. Far more dangerous than Batman and far harder to find. Batman may scourge and protect Gotham, but Hood  _is_ Gotham. He could disappear and be anyone, anywhere and no one in the city could or would tell you anything. There's only so many people who could be the big Bat with all their riches and resources." 

Tim seemed to absorb the rebuttal with a sunken face and he visibly swallowed his nerves. "I-...I guess," he mumbled, trying to steady his breathing.

Dick took the opportunity to lean down so close that their breath mingled and tickled softly against his neck. "You need to tell me if you can do this or not, Timmy," he purred softly, the hint of danger still a threat in his tone. Tim closed his eyes and became very quiet and almost stopped breathing completely. Dick could only imagine what was going through his head right now. And honestly, he did feel a twinge of sympathy for the boy; he was asking quite a lot for Tim to just give up his virginity like that. But business needed to be taken care of. If Tim couldn't do it... Talon inside of him ridiculed at him for being so soft, but rationally he hadn't given any information but his own name. He could still let the boy go. He'd lose his perfect advantage over the Hood and he'd have to put the fear of Talon in the boy to ensure he kept his mouth shut about him, but...he could still let him live. Keeping one's virginity wasn't a punishable offense. Or an offense at all. Not even the Owls made him lose that little bit of his humanity. 

Still, Tim was silent underneath him. Dick waited as patiently as he could, even loosening his grip on Tim's wrists and moving to press them down beside his head. This motion seemed to make Tim stir and open his eyes at last. "I made a deal with you," he sounded resolved, the perfect discipline was back. "I can do it." 

Dick arched a brow and tilted his head, uncertain. "You're just going to give up your innocence like that?" Was the kid even human?

"It doesn't mean much to me anyway, to be honest, it's just business," he shrugged as well as he could underneath Dick's grasp. "In my line of work, it's a useful skill to have anyway. My only problem is, um... I still don't know  _how_. Hood won't keep me around long if I'm not able to please," Tim pinkened ever so slightly at the last word.

Dick's lips twitched as he tried and failed to keep the dirty rebuttal at bay. "Well then, it's my duty as your employer to train you," he snarked, making Tim snort and redden unwillingly.

"You're a man of many kinks, aren't you?" he muttured under his breath.

"You can't say it's not hot," Dick purred, sliding his hands from around Tim's wrists to instead caress up and down Tim's arms.

Tim conceded and nodded his head. "I'll give you that," he murmured quietly, breath hitching ever so slightly when Dick's lips brushed light as a feather against his neck.

Dick chuckled and pressed a firm, chaste kiss against Tim's throat before melting into a soft, intimate, wet one. Tim's breathing shallowed and he tilted his head just enough to extend his neck. Good, he was learning, Dick smirked.

"So does that mean you're willing to learn?" he murmured against the boy's skin. "Just say the word, Timmy."

Tim released a shuddering breath, closing his eyes in resignation before finally nodding his consent. Dick felt himself go rigid with electricity before switching suddenly from gentle licking on the boy's neck to rough sucking against the collar. Tim mewled at that and his hands flew up instantly to clutch Dick's shoulders in encouragement. Dick hummed in amusement and slid his expert, gauntlet-covered hands down Tim's sides, around the gentle curve of his hips (almost like a woman's, Dick thought...almost), to roughly caress his ass and smoothly pressed his palm against his thighs to guide it up and around Dick's own waist. Tim trembled beneath him, but otherwise willingly let Dick take the lead and shift him to whatever position he wanted. Dick continued without a hitch, kissing and biting and sucking his way around Tim's throat, and now that he was settled into the warmth between Timmy's legs, he contented himself with rolling his hips and grinding their covered cocks together ferally. 

Tim gasped and let out a tiny moan, his fingers tightening their grip on Dick's arms as he took his own initiative to bite into the assassin's shoulder. The material was slick and smooth, and his eyes fluttered shut when he tasted Gotham and inhaled danger from the fabric. Dick growled briefly and thrusted his hips roughly against the boy.  
  
"You're learning fast, jail bait," he snarked between increasingly shallow, desperate breaths. Tim would have replied if his brain were working properly or if his throat wasn't so dry, but after Dick rolled their hips together again he couldn't even if he tried, so he only managed a high pitched little whimper. Dick's lips curled into a lusty grin, his own glowing yellow irises barely visible around his huge, dilated pupils. Tim could only stare up at him as Dick first removed his black gauntlets, then began to slowly unzip and shuck off his Talon uniform like his own personal strip tease. First came the stunning view of his smooth torso, inch by inch as Dick slowly began to lift the shirt. Tim's eyes followed the trail from Dick's sharp hip bones to his bronze, toned naval and up his lean sides and chiseled chest. His nipples were pert and a lovely shade of bronze that made Tim desperately desire to lick them. He had to bite himself back and restrict himself to barely uncertainly caressing Dick's sides as the black top finally made it over Dick's head (which messed it up and gave him the sexiest windblown look Tim had ever seen) and tossed the cloth away without another thought.

Dick felt the boy's cock twitch in his pants underneath him and he smirked, making Tim groan. "Come on baby, don't be shy," he murmured invitingly, grasping Tim's wrists and forcing Tim's hands to move and caress up his naked torso. "You can touch me all you want," he added with a seductive whisper. Tim responded with simple, raspy breath of relief...or maybe even disbelief before eagerly accepting the instruction and letting his hands explore the man's hips and naval, back and chest and taught shoulders freely. 

Dick's hips jerked in surprise when Tim almost immediately leaned up to fasten his lips around his nipple. "You bold little-  _fuck_ ," he moaned, winding his fingers through Tim's dark hair and massaging roughly in encouragement. Tim grunted in compliance and sucked greedily and in turn Dick thrusted their hips together, almost making Tim stutter in his movements. Tim whimpered and nibbled teasingly at the nipple before licking a feather light trail and giving the same tongue and teeth action to its twin.  Dick's cock twitched and he hissed in pleasure. Damn sensitivity. Damn jail bait kid with more kinks than he was willing to admit. Dick growled and finally shoved the boy back onto the mattress and began to unfasten his own pants. 

"Strip," he commanded, dark and urgent. Tim bit his lip shyly, his already flushed cheeks reddening impossibly more as he obeyed and began removing the Arkham jumpsuit. Dick paused his own movements just to watch as the orange material practically melted off the boys shoulders to reveal a paper thin white t-shirt that did almost nothing to hide the pink flesh of his chest underneath. His mouth was almost watering when Tim pushed the orange suit steadily down his hips and pale, strong (stronger than Dick had imagined) leg muscles before kicking off his white shoes and shucking the suit the rest of the way off. The t-shirt was the next to go, leaving him in nothing but Arkham-issued briefs and a red, shy, wanting blush on what was originally the palest white skin and pink rouged lips and rose bud nipples.

"We're going shopping tomorrow before your mission," Dick whispered on a hazy whim, making Tim tilt his head and furrow his brows in confusion. "You can't just walk around like an escaped convict with horrible taste in underwear."  

"Oh," Tim cast his eyes up to Dick, chest rising and falling heavily (which was hotter than it had any right to be). "Okay. Um...that's fine. What underwear would you rather see me in?" The blush on the boy's face was unbelievable at this point.

Dick took one look at the boy's slim, lean body and didn't even have to think about his answer. "Right now?  _None_ ," he growled before pressing Tim onto his back once more and using one quick motion of his hands to peel the briefs off and fling them away out of sight. Tim was left completely and utterly naked before him now, shivering slightly and never once taking his dark eyes off of Dick's face. 

Dick groaned in admiration; Tim was really kind of pretty, all flushed and naked and vulnerable like this. His cock was just as rouged with blush as the rest of his body and the poor guy was already leaking pre-come in anticipation. Dick smirked again and gave Tim a flash of his mischeivous yellow eyes before gracefully leaning down to lick the bead away and swirl his tongue wetly around the soft pink tip. Tim keened underneath him and Dick had to press his hips down to stop him from bucking up into his mouth. Tim whimpered as Dick continued to play and lick a thick stripe up his underside, and even pushed his limits to thread his fingers needily into Dick's perfect hair (which Dick was kind or kinky enough to allow). Dick hummed and offered a small, humored chuckle before wrapping his lips completely around the shaft and sucking vehemently. Tim cried out in pleasure and tightened his grip in Dick's hair, encouraging and even pleading as Dick bobbed his head up and down rhythmically with plenty of tongue and humming vibrations. Dick even snaked his hand up to generously massage Tim's balls along with all the action. He could hear Tim almost crying above him, and he would have smiled at it if he could, if his mouth weren't so full of cock.  Instead, his lips just tightened ever so slightly before his own cock started twitching from neglect. Dick sighed around the shaft, which made Tim twitch and shudder, and shoved his pants just low enough to expose his own groin and the soft,round curve of his ass before taking himself in hand and rubbing out some much needed friction.

"Please," Tim choked above him, obviously getting close. " _Please."_

Dick smirked and pulled off with a wet  _pop_. "What is it Timmy?" he asked almost sickeningly sweet as he nosed light as a feather up and down Tim's shaft. "Do you need me to take care of you?" Tim whimpered, straining his hips up and nodding reluctantly.

"You want me inside you?" he murmured, moving to nip and kiss lightly along his inner thigh and just below his balls. Tim whined and nodded yes again, squeezing his grip in Dick's hair as if to emphasize. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart," Dick continued. "Tell me to fuck you good and hard, and that's what I'll do," he whispered.

"Fuck me," Tim gasped. "Fuck me, Dick, fuck me  _please_."

Dick's devious eyes flashed up at the younger hungrily. "As you wish," he hummed before sacrificing his self-pleasuring hand to use both for spreading Tim's cheeks and sucking greedily at the tight ring of muscle at Tim's entrance. He pressed his tongue firmly forward and dipped it inside, moaning at the whole unique taste and feel of Tim convulsing around him. Tim above him was crying out again as Dick began thrusting his tongue in and out, over and over and sucking hungrily here and there. When Dick's cock started twitching again in desperate agitation, he inserted two fingers inside beside his tongue to help speed the process up. Tim of course gasped and cringed a little around him, but with one quick shift of his hips and careful continuous stretching, Dick didn't even have to stop before Tim was moaning softly again. He added a third digit and began curling and thrusting his fingers mechanically. It took a few seconds of searching, but when he finally heard Tim screech and feel fingernails digging into his scalp,he knew he found the bundle of nerves he was looking for and dubbed Tim ready for fucking. He withdrew his fingers with a throaty groan of complaint from his lover underneath him and gave one last lubricating motion of his tongue before raising to his knees and repositioning the younger boy into his lap.

"Y-you're not going to take off your p-pants all the way?" Tim stuttered as Dick smirked and removed the claws from his hair to pin them above Tim's head with one hand.

"No. I'm going to take you just like this baby," he hummed filthily into Tim's ear. Tim moaned at that and nodded eagerly, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Dick groaned, unable to contain himself anymore at the sight and finally pressed himself in passed the tight ring of muscle inch by inch until he was fully sheathed and Tim's virgin warmth and tightness enveloped him. Tim whimpered for a second and tried to tug his hands out of Dick's grasp, but Dick shook his head and pressed a firm kiss against his lips. "Shhh, baby bird, give it a second," he instructed, caressing the boy's naked hip with his free hand.

Tim whined again and shook his head. "No, fuck,  _move_ ," Tim hissed through his teeth, bucking his hips up pleadingly for motion. Dick arched his brows in surprise before obliging the boy and pulling out just enough to fuck his way back inside, hard and fast. The pace was rough and unrelenting, but with the way Tim was keening, Dick doubted he minded too much. In fact, quite the opposite, especially when Tim yelped with pleasure as Dick once again found and rammed his prostate. Over and over with each thrust, their skin clapped together desperately. And when Tim's harsh pants became screams of pleasure (he was a screamer, go figure, Dick smirked), Tim actually managed to break his hands free and rake stinging lines down Dick's back just as he toppled over the edge and came all over Dick's chest.

Tim was shuddering and whimpering as he came down, but not even the tight convulsion around him was enough to finish Dick off quite yet. He snarled desperately and hiked Tim's leg up over his shoulder and pinned it there, eliciting a small gasp as Dick fucked so hard he had to brace himself against the head board until finally he was able to release and spill everything he had while still inside Tim. Tim moaned at the feeling as Dick panted above him before he pulled his softening member out and fell to the side in total post coital collapse. Tim was still panting beside him and staring up at the ceiling, hair in complete disarray and sweat in a sheet all across his body. Dick smirked and hummed out a quiet yawn as he pulled his pants up and refastened them lazily. Tim finally turned to look at him, squirming still, undoubtedly because of the feeling of the warm liquid still inside him, and closed his eyes with a shiver.

"So...about that payment plan," Tim whispered, voice a little hoarse from the screaming. Dick arched a brow in surprise; he had almost forgotten about that. Almost. But really, why bring it up now?

"What about it?" Dick murmured, letting his eyes drift up to the dark ceiling above so he didn't have to look at Tim while they discussed personal business.

"Originally, I was going to take the payment in full, up front..." he began hesitantly. "But, um..." he paused, biting his lip. Dick rolled his eyes and looked back down toward the boy who was once again...blushing? Oh no.

"I've decided instead that every time we meet up in the next...how long do you want me to do this?"

"Until I decide I have enough information for the tactical advantage," Dick replied with a frown. Where was this going?

"So it could take a while then," Tim nodded his head as if this was some kind of confirmation and shifted himself so that he was above and looking down over Dick. It made Dick tense up a little bit and twitch to reach for his blade. "We're going to meet up every week or every two weeks or whatever...periodically and exchange information," he began with a preparing breath. "I'll tell you what I've learned and you answer every question I ask you fully and truthfully. And-"

"And  _what_?" Dick interrupted in cautious agitation. "Are you adding terms and conditions or something? That wasn't part of the deal."

"I- I know," Tim cleared his throat, red rouge rising again in his cheeks and down his chest. "I just-...technically, there's still a lot of information I could learn about, um... _this_ ," Tim gestured down at his naked body and swallowed thickly. That's when Dick connected the dots.

Oh.

"You want to keep _fucking_ me?" Dick rephrased with an amused snort. 

Tim chewed his lip hesitantly before squaring off his shoulders and smirking back. He really did learn fast. "I prefer to think of it as another form of information exchange."

"So now I'm paying you with information  _and_ sex? I feel like some sort of prostitute," Dick joked sarcastically.

"Process it however you like," Tim shrugged, turning away to snatch his briefs from the floor and slide them back on. Dick snickered at the boy and shook his head. 

"You drive a hard bargain, Timmy," he grumbled, though not without a smile. If he could get away with it, maybe he could distract Tim with sex every time and forget about the whole information part of it. Tim had a point when he said seduction was a powerful tool when used properly. Maybe Tim would be a victim of his own words. "But who am I to turn down a good, hard fuck every week from a pretty thing like you?"

"How debonair of you," Tim rolled his eyes cynically as he pulled on the discarded white t-shirt. Ah, there was the Tim he met from Arkham back all too soon. Looks like he'd have to fuck him harder next time. "When do I start?"

"Well, we still need to buy you clothes for a disguise and come up with an undercover story," Dick listed thoughtfully.

"Obviously," Tim yawned, stretching languidly and wincing when he tried to walk forward to retrieve the jumpsuit. Maybe he fucked him harder than he thought...

"That and if you're going to seduce the Hood, you probably shouldn't do it with hickies all over you," Dick grinned ferally. 

" _What_?" Tim snapped as he pulled the lower half of his jumpsuit on, leaving the top half to hang lifelessly as he launched himself over toward the mirror for inspection. Low and behold, the dark bruises were already showing themselves on display high up on his throat and littering down to his collar bone. "Jesus, if you do this while I'm supposed to be Hood's play toy, you'll get me  _killed_ ," he snapped sorely, rubbing the hickies tenderly on his neck. Dick laughed carelessly and rolled his eyes.

"You weren't exactly complaining, Timmy. And by the way," he added in as a reminder, "I'm not the one who added sex to the payment plan."


	4. Bump in the night

December 17th, 3:14 a.m. in Gotham City.

Forecast: Cloudless for once in her life, but there was still not a star in sight. Stars didn't exist underneath the smoke and smog and the dirt. And tonight it was cold. More than cold, it was fucking  _freezing,_ even underneath the leather and kevlar armor. He could taste it in every half-filtered breath he took through his Hood. It wasn't snowing tonight, but it had snowed enough the last week for the sidewalks to be littered with sooty gray slush and black ice dotting the roads here and there. The skyscrapers were dotted with bright lights toward downtown and he could see glimpses of Christmas trees through apartment complexes peeking through all the way toward the Cathedral, which was shining bright as it always did this time of the year. If he closed his eyes, Hood could almost hear the soft melody of Christmas carols... but when he opened them again, he knew it was just a trick of the wind.

It was quiet tonight. Far too quiet in his opinion, he decided as another bought of icy wind bit mercilessly at him atop the dark rooftop. He had caught a glimpse of Batman earlier in the night...watched him out of sheer boredom. But even the Bat seemed to decide it was quiet enough to retire just after 1. Usually the vigilante was out until just before the break of dawn, like himself, but this night on December 17, it was dead quiet. One of the rare occasion that he'd likely not see again for a very long time. 

Gotham, though still twinkling and bristling with life of the night, slept; or the crime did anyway. Red Hood cracked his stiff neck and sighed, half expecting a light puff of air if it weren't for his helmet blocking the way, and decided that maybe it was time to retire himself for the night. He quickly stifled a yawn and bound easily off the ledge. It was amazing that this simple feat used to make his legs burn and buckle when he thudded a landing on the ground, but now the act was practically second nature; he didn't even blink as his feet his the pavement; he didn't miss a beat before he walked on, shoving his gloved hands in his jacket pockets as he made his way to his bike, hidden three blocks over in a private storage unit. He didn't bother to be silent; he actually enjoyed the echoing thud of his footsteps in the alley, and there was no one around to skulk at him anyway. Even if there was, one look at the bright red helmet would send them running right back the other way. Red Hood wasn't scared of Gotham. Red Hood  _thrived_ in Gotham. If anything, Gotham feared  _hi-_

 _"Hel-lo Gorgeous,"_ he muttured aloud as the vision of a lithe little silhouette strolled absently around the corner up ahead. He couldn't see him very well, but he could tell that the boy was freezing by the way he was hunched over and holding his arms close to his chest and trying like hell not to shiver. He could also tell that the generic red hoodie was disheveled and laying crooked on his shoulders, almost like it was about to fall off, and the jeans (goddamn the jeans) were tight on him,but hanging just low enough around his hips for his occupation to suddenly become clear. He was a male hooker. What was a hooker doing out this late? It was almost 4, they usually called it quits by now to get out of the cold. Well... to be fair, he could see the boy start to sway a bit on the spot after he stopped walking, and after a couple of seconds fall over completely against the cold alley wall and sink out of sight behind a stack of cardboard boxes. 

What was that about? Was he too drunk to find his way home? Or maybe...one of his clients drugged him. Hood scowled underneath his helmet and felt his hands clench at his side. Did he have a pimp? If so, pimps knew his rules, this boy should have been carefully watched. But if he didn't have a pimp, even the toms of the town fucking knew better. But then again...maybe his client had just been one hell of a lay. Should he go to him and ask if he needed help? It wasn't every day the Red Hood just popped by and scared the living hell out of the prostitutes. Patronize them on a rainy day, perhaps (usually with one hell of a tip, too. Red Hood wasn't skimpy on tips), but this was new altogether. But then...he did have a soft spot for the call girls and boys of the city. He knew their pain, he wasn't a fool. If that didn't finally stop him from hesitating, the new sound of soft,barely there crying from behind the dingy boxes definitely did. Something was wrong, he had to help. 

Red Hood sighed in defeat and treaded intently down the alleyway toward the weeping. He didn't bother to hide his footsteps, so it wasn't a surprise when he heard a small gasp and the immediate halt to the crying. He sighed and stepped underneath the alley light, stopping just beside the boy and looking down.

The poor kid was staring up at him with wide, heart breaking blue eyes that stared between a plastered mop of dirty black hair. He could see the heavy make up around his eyes and whatever he had previously on his lips was smudged almost completely off at this point (which Hood tried not to think about). There were dark hickies littering his neck and collar from what he could see, which wasn't much since he was curled pathetically against the wall for warmth. He was pale and skinny and Hood immediately took pity on him. He tilted his head and placed a hand on his hip thoughtfully as he looked down at the boy.

"R-Red Hood," the boy squeaked in awe or fear. Red Hood didn't mind, he was used to having this effect on people. "I-" the boy bit his lip, as though he didn't know what to say. "I can't- do you want me to-"

"No," Hood interjected before the boy could even think about it. He could see the obvious blush on the kids cheek as he muttered a quick "Sorry," to which Hood passively shook his head. "Any other night, maybe, but right now you should be at home. Why are you out this late? Who was your last client?" The boy blinked in shock and seemed to freeze in hesitation. That's understandable, confidentiality was key in his line of work. "Nevermind, forget it. Just...are you okay? Can you get home from here?" he amended quickly, cursing himself for sounding like a mumbling idiot. He was the  _Red Hood_ for Christ's sake.

At that, the boy seemed to well up and choke as he turned his face away. "I- I'll be okay."

"You didn't answer my question," Hood insisted with a hard tone. The boy flinched and whimpered ever so softly before looking up at him like some kind of sad, shaggy, blue eyed puppy. 

"I-...was evicted from my place two nights ago," he finally admitted in shame, tucking a lock of long, dirty black hair behind his ears and turning away. Poor guy could use a shower...and probably a good, greasy buffet to put some food in his belly. "I- I was with a client earlier and ...all he did was shove cheap alcohol down my throat and refuse to pay me after. I was supposed to have enough for a ch-cheap motel room, but he said if I didn't g-get out he'd  _kill_ me," the boy explained miserably before letting his head fall against the wall behind him with a soft thud.

"Oh," Hood replied blankly, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Okay...maybe if he gave the kid enough money for a room?

"Don't even think about it, I don't need your charity," the boy snapped, reading his mind in the silence.

Red Hood snorted at the sudden outburst. "Don't you?" he retorted challengingly, to which the boy's fierce expression faltered and he sighed miserably once again. "You're starving and you're going to freeze to death if you stay out here," Hood frowned in disapproval. "Do you really wanna die like this at your age? How old are you anyway?" he asked with an almost exasperated gesture.  


The boy shrugged and mumbled under his breath what sounded suspiciously like  _18._ "You're barely  _legal_ and you're already in the shit hole of your life. Jesus, kid," he cursed, reaching up to scratch his head, befuddled, before he remembered he had his helmet on. "Shit. Alright, what's your name?"

"What? Why?" the kid furrowed his brows immediately in confusion and distrust.

"Because I don't just help  _anybody_. What's your name?" he insisted, kneeling down to stare directly into his eyes.

The boy hesitated uncomfortably before seeming to steel himself and grit his teeth. "My name is Tim D-... _Jackson_ ," he offered quietly. Well, he couldn't blame the guy for giving him a false last name. That was understandable. "Tim Jackson. And you are?" he arched a brow with a challenging smirk. Hood laughed in disbelief and shook his head. "Prince of Gotham, at your service. You call me Hood unless I tell you otherwise."

"That's no fair," Tim pouted, crossing his arms. At least he had cheered up a bit. 

"I'm a crime lord, kid.  _Fair_ isn't in my job description," Hood shrugged indifferently, standing and offering a hand up, which Tim accepted while rolling his eyes.

"Fine. Jerk. Do I get money or what?" he sniped. Hood chuckled at the abrasiveness and shook his head.

"Hold it, Timbo. I'm not just going to give you cash. I don't know what kind of drugs you may or may not buy-"

"But I don't-" Tim interrupted before Hood crossed his arms firmly and rendered the boy silent.

"Save it. I'll help you out, buy you a meal and give you a place to stay, but I'm not just going to give you a stack of money," Hood grunted, tapping his fingers against his arms non-chalantly.

"So...what are you gonna do then, your highness?" Tim grimaced sarcastically. Hood didn't answer right away and took the moment to bite his lip and think about it. What  _was_ he going to do? The guy was homeless and hungry and it was one thing to be a prostitute...you do what you have to to get by. But this...this wasn't even getting by in Hood's book. And Tim never mentioned anything about a pimp, so he had no help. He was completely on his own.

"I can give you a job." The words were out of his mouth before he was even aware he had the idea. He was glad for the helmet at this point, he knew he looked surprised at himself. It was nothing compared to the look on Tim's face though. His jaw fell slack and his eyes were wide as saucers, darting between him and every which way around them as if someone was going to jump out and tell him he'd been punked. After a moment of consideration, Tim closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"What kind of job?" he hesitated.

"Relax, it's not like that. I could use an assistant. You have no idea how much crap I have to sort through on a daily basis. _No idea_ ," he shook his head as if remembering a nightmare that resembled some form of criminal paperwork. "You don't have to spread your legs for anybody if you don't want to, you can stay in one of my apartments until you find your own place, you can go anywhere you like anytime you want, but if I call you at _any_ time, it's your job to answer and do whatever I say for you to do."

"That's..." Tim blinked, almost speechless as he shook his head. "That's...awfully generous of you," he finally struggled out through a suspicious glare.

"No, it's really not. I don't think you understand; if I call you at 5 in the morning and tell you I want you to pick up some take out for me, you're going to do it. If I take you with me to a private meeting and tell you to break someone's fingers, you break their fingers. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to drive, you drive. If I tell you to shut the fuck up or file my paperwork-"

"Alright, alright, I  _get_ it. I'm your personal slave,  _yes Master_ ," he mocked in exasperation, but Hood could see the hint of a smile. Crazy kid, was he actually considering this? And did he just call him  _master_? 

"Jesus," Hood whistled in disbelief, hiding the twinge of pleasure. Tim smirked and crossed his arms, shivering once again and a gust of cold wind blew through his clothes.

"So...you're not going to ask me to suck your dick or anything?" Tim's smirk fell into an honest, prodding expression. Hood, even underneath the mask, was completely poker faced. 

"No. But If you _really_ want to, then hey," he half joked,gesturing to himself and laughing even harder when he saw the boy flush brightly. "Seriously though, you're not required to do any of that. Just answer when I call you, do whatever I ask, and don't ask personal questions. Capiche?"

Tim groaned in hesitation and bit his lip. He bounced on the balls of his feet and pulled his jacket closer around him as he shivered again. "Come on, I don't have all night," Hood insisted. "And I don't think you wanna freeze to death so what's it gonna be?"

Tim gave him a cynical look before sighing and ruffling his dirty hair in exasperation. "Fine. When do I-"

"Right now. Follow me," he gestured without another word as he continued walking on through the alley way. Tim stared after him, blinking in shock before bounding after him in a hurry.

"You, um...you never mentioned what you were gonna pay me," Tim mumbled breathlessly behind him as he tried to keep up with Red Hood's long strides. Red Hood snorted in front of him before stopping by a series of small storage warehouses and cutting around a corner.

"I'll deposit the money into your account every week," Hood replied, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. 

Tim frowned and stopped. "I don't- I don't  _have_ an account," he informed. Red Hood paused in front of him a little ways and turned back to face him. 

"Then  _make_ one," he ordered before turning back and continuing quickly down the row of storage units until at last he stopped in front of one and unlocked it without a hitch. The metal door slid up with a loud  _screech_ before Tim stood in awe just staring at what was inside. Hood looked over and smirked down at him underneath his helmet. 

" _Wow_ ," was all Tim was able to muster in admiration. "Wait do I have to  _ride_ on that?" Hood laughed as he threw a leg over his beloved bike and turned to pat the seat behind him. 

"You scared, Timmy?" Hood mocked. Tim stuck out his nose in defiance and stormed forward to follow Hood's example and throw a leg over the seat. He shivered again, but Hood suspected it wasn't from the cold this time. He smirked and fired up the engine  before turning back one last time to yell "Hold on tight!" before speeding away into the night, with no one to see them go except a pair of bright yellow, gleaming eyes.

 

 


	5. Of Roommates and Gratitude

Tim had never ridden a motorcycle before. He never once imagined that his first time would be pressed front to back against the Red fucking Hood's sleek leather jacket, clutching his arms around the man's waist for dear life as they flew through the streets. The wind whipped against his cheeks and stung his eyes enough to produce blistering tears, but he blinked them back determinedly so he could keep his eyes wide open; he wasn't going to miss a thing. Not the way the lights blended together in streaks as they passed, not the shrill squeak of tired as Hood circled a corner or jumped a ramp on the way down the central expressway, and definitely not the sharp smell of metal and smoke while he pressed his cheek against the man's back. But then...he never imagined he'd unmask the Batman, either. He never imagined hiding away in the farthest corner of an asylum for three whole years and he'd never imagined an insane mutated assassin to pike his interest enough to convince him to  _seduce_ a psychopathic crime lord.

The whole thing was...electrifying, like lightning in his veins. He'd learned years ago that it was just the effect of a temporary adrenaline high, except that in this particular context, it had lasted two straight days. Hanging out and fucking assassins and crime lords definitely had some kind of chemical effect... Almost better than the hallucinogenic drugs he'd been injected with behind the white, padded walls. And the funny part? 

He hadn't even touched Hood yet. The adrenaline rush that was his mission was only just getting started.

He hasn't seen his face, he doesn't know his name, he doesn't even know how to approach the subject of sex. At least the man had given him a live-in job so he'd have time to learn the man's habits and behaviors enough to figure it out. 

Oh god... he was going to be living with the  _Red Hood._ He was going to unlock and cozy up to and then betray the most dangerous man in the city -well,  _second_ most dangerous, he reminded himself as he remembered piercing yellow eyes and sharp teeth against his neck-. The dispute between the two was terrifying to think about and now he was directly in the middle of it, like dancing on the edge of a knife. Dick was right, he was probably going to die by one hand or another.

If he failed to win over the Red Hood -and he _might_ , since no personal questions were allowed and the man was as guarded as Alcatraz-, then Dick would surely dispose of him without a second thought. Then again...look how easily Red Hood had trusted him enough to give him a job a a  _live-in assistant?_ If he succeeded, though... if he ever slipped up once, if Red Hood ever discovered his secret...he was dead where he stood. It was like playing Russian Roulette with five bullets and one blank instead of the other way around.

He had to be careful. He had to control the situation, he had to keep these psychos pacified and under his thumb. But Tim couldn't help but laugh the second he though that; control was the last thing he had right now on the back of Hood's motorcycle speeding away into the darkness of God-knows-where, not knowing what was going to happen. And he hadn't exactly shown much control with Dick the other night either. How was he supposed to control the criminal masterminds when he could barely control himself or the situation he had gotten himself into?

" _You okay back there, kid_?" Hood shouted from the front over the freezing wind. Tim snapped his head up immediately and offered what he hoped looked like a shy smile. 

"I'm sorry! I've just never ridden a bike before," he called back, willing his cheeks to warm with a blush against the cool air.

" _Ha! No wonder you're gripping me tighter than death. Don't worry, we're almost there."_

"Huh?" Tim couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion as he took in their surroundings once more. They were pulling into an underground parking garage now, slowing to a creepy crawl though the aisles of vehicles. 

"Why are we-"

"You'll see," Hood cut him off with an audible smirk as he pulled the bike into the farthest, darkest corner possible and cut the engine off. There was only two other vehicles back here: an old, blue Buick that didn't look too conspicuous and the other was hidden underneath a car sheet. Hood didn't seem to pay them any mind as let Tim safely climb off. Tim  shuffled his feet anxiously before finally, Hood stood up and released the lock on his helmet with a soft hiss of breath. Tim inhaled sharply and watched, not even daring to blink. He hadn't even thought about what Hood might look like underneath the helmet; was he old? Did he have some kind of scar he was trying to hide? Was he just another average, run of the mill human being? Did he have terrifying yellow eyes that pierced into a man's soul? That last one probably wasn't the case, honestly, because there weren't many mutated Talons in the world. Red Hood was undoubtedly completely human. But the other questions still stood. What exactly was he in for with this guy?

Hood looked over and snorted softly at him from underneath the loosened helmet. "Go on, you're allowed to gawk. Everyone does," he permitted as he pulled it clean over his head to reveal a rough smirk. It really wasn't fair, was the first comprehensible thought that ran through Tim's head. Psychopaths shouldn't be allowed to be so goddamn attractive. Hood wasn't the same kind of attractive as Dick had been; Dick was sharp and sleek to look at, just like the dual blades he wore on his back. His face was ironically angelic to behold, with the black of his suit tight enough to throw his sex appeal in your face; Dick flaunted himself really. But  _Hood_...he was something else entirely. 

The face underneath the mask was rough and masculine; he had a hard jaw littered with stubble and a heavy set brow line that defined clear green eyes (which was something of either a shock or a relief after escaping the piercing yellow ones). His hair was shorter than Dick's, though just at dark. It was cropped in the back and just long enough in the front, Tim presumed, to slick back underneath the helmet only to fall carelessly against his forehead now that it was off. He had dark circles under his eyes probably from lack of sleep and (lord help Tim for looking so quickly) chapped lips to hell. He wasn't the flawless, untouchable kind of beauty that Dick was; he was a harder, rougher kind of attractive. To put it simply, the guy was  _hot_. Tim couldn't tell how old he was, but he seemed relatively young; younger than he ever thought the Red Hood could possibly be. How was that possible?

"You're-" Tim struggled to find words.

The man rolled his eyes humorously and cradled the helmet in one arm. "Still the most dangerous man in the city, don't forget," he arched a brow in warning and amusement. Tim shut his mouth instantly as Hood turned and strode right over to the Buick. He yanked the door open with a loud metallic screech (the poor thing needed to be oiled), but Hood paid it no mind as he pulled out an old faded backpack before slamming the door shut and walking back to Tim.

"Did you just- that's someone's _car,_ " Tim voiced, only for Hood to laugh gruffly at him. Oh. Right. It didn't matter who's car it was, Hood was the king of the city and he did what he wanted. He cursed himself for being such an idiot.

"These are all _my_ cars, actually," Hood explained as he set the backpack on the motorcycle and unzipped it intently. "I own the garage. Well, _this_ section of it anyway," he explained as he pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. "I can come in as the Red Hood into a private section and walk out as a regular civilian and no one ever knows."

"Oh," Tim blinked, surprised. That was...clever. Very clever. And- oh- Oh, he had shucked off his leather jacket and had started unstrapping his armor underneath. Tim blushed and looked away, but couldn't help sneaking a peak. Hood saw and chuckled softly, but otherwise paid him no mind. He didn't seem to care, apparently, whether or not Tim watched him dress. That was another difference between him and Dick; Dick liked to put on a show and entice everyone who looked at him. This guy gave no fucks, Tim realized as Hood pulled off the complex kevlar and replaced it with the plain black T. Next came the cargo pants, which Tim did look away for, out of respect, while Hood replaced them with the faded jeans. In less than a minute, the man balled up the cargo pants and the armor and threw them in the backpack along with the helmet before zipping it up and re-donning the jacket once more.

"So...so these are your cars?" Tim forced out, trying to make conversation. At least Dick was a chatterbox; he felt like he was walking on eggshells with Hood. "I get the hot rod, but why a shitty Buick?" _  
_

Hood perked up and grinned at that. "You know cars?"

"A little," Tim shrugged. The man laughed.

"The Buick is my civilian car, when I need to go to the grocery store or don't feel like walking," he hummed with glee.

"Right. Okay. So what's under the sheet?" Tim asked curiously. Red Hood's eyes glinted dangerously.

"That's my baby," he replied mysteriously. "If you last until my next meeting, you'll get to see her," he added before beckoning Tim forward  as he shouldered the backpack and turned to walk out. 

"Well, that's...nice of you...I guess," Tim mumbled, troubled.  _If he lasts_? What the hell?

"Oh, don't be so broody," Hood smirked. "Nearly all of my assistants have survived."

"Nearly?" Tim grimaced. 

"One of them decided she was going to try and slit my throat while I slept," Hood answered indifferently. "Talked into it by Black Mask. You can guess what happened to her," Hood finished darkly as they passed into the public parking section.

"Is that a threat?" Tim asked quietly.

"Interpret it how you will," Hood shrugged. "Just know that I don't take kindly to traitors." 

Tim suppressed a shiver and nodded, casting his eyes to the ground. Yeah, he was definitely dead. He could only pray Hood didn't find out before Talon got to him. "So what happened to the ones who didn't fuck up?"

Hood stopped in his tracks and turned to really look at Tim and take him in. It took him a second to stir again, but finally he responded simply "They either left the city or earned a spot on my payroll."

"Right," Tim chewed his cheek skeptically. "I'll keep that in mind." What an unpredictable man to know. They were silent for the next few minutes as they walked under the florescent lights of the garage, leaving Tim to dwell on his thoughts until they finally emerged out onto the street. They were surrounded by apartment complexes packed so close together that it was no wonder they needed a parking garage; there was hardly any room left for cars with so many buildings jammed together. Tim hummed in surprise.

"And here I pictured you flaunting your wealth in some kind of penthouse or something," Tim joked. Hood scoffed beside him and elbowed him lightly.

"Who do you think I am? Some idiotic bureaucrat like Drake or Wayne?" Tim winced at the names, but otherwise just shrugged in feign ignorance. "I like that people think that, though. They expect me to be some all powerful gangster like Black Mask or Dent, they'll never think that some guy from the slums controls the entire city."

"Good point," Tim muttered as they crossed the empty street. Hood beckoned him forward to the closest stairwell and immediately began to climb, expecting Tim to follow. They ascended not one, not two, but  _three_ whole flights before Hood veered onto a balcony and journeyed four doors down to a ruddy green door with paint peeling at the edges and the bronze number E370 above the knocker was dull and unpolished. This guy laid _very_ low, apparently, Tim thought while Hood fished a small silver key from out of his jacket and hastily unlocked the door.

The inside was something entirely unexpected. The walls were coated with cheap white paint and floored with fake woodstrip floors. The living room was directly attached to a tiny kitchenette and Tim was surprised to discover that the place was completely clean; no dirty dishes, no trash in the bin, not a thing out of place except a stray pizza box and an empty beer bottle that weighed down a newspaper on the tiny dining table. It was un-extravagant and simple, almost void of character, to be honest. But Hood seemed comfortable here, Tim concluded, when he closed the door behind them and bounded forward only to toss the back pack into a corner and sprawl gracelessly on his small couch. Tim really didn't know what to do, so he just stood there shuffling his feet hesitantly and did nothing. Hood noticed him standing there and instantly seemed to remember he had company. 

"I'm sorry, kid, my couch was calling my name," he shrugged. _  
_

"Yeah, oops," Tim laughed nervously, trying to suppress a grimace. This was the Red Hood. The Red Hood just called him _kid_ _..._ and not for the first time that night. He didn't know whether or not that was a good sign. But he had to keep trying. "You, uh...wanna give me a tour?" he tried shyly, smiling under his lashes in what he hoped was a flirtatious manner.

Hood blinked and smirked at him before pulling himself to his feet. "Fine, fair enough. You do need to see where you'll be sleeping," he nodded to himself as he directed Tim to the hallway on the right.

"Wait, w-what?" Tim stuttered. 

"I only have one bedroom," Hood explained, rolling his eyes as he stopped in front of the first of two doors. "And most of the time I sleep on the couch. So congratulations, the room is yours," Jason gestured carelessly to reveal a tiny white bedroom with an unmade bed, a simple brown dresser to the left and oh- jesus,  _dozens_ of books. They were placed in stacks on the floor, on top of the dresser, and even scattered across the sheets of the bed. They were old books, dog-eared old things with titles like  _The Picture of Dorian Grey, Jane Eyre, Sense and Sensibility, The Iliad and the Odyssey,_ and even a relatively new copy of  _The Wallstreet Journal._ Tim had been wrong about Hood's lack of character. The most dangerous, violent man in the city was some young hunk who enjoyed pizza, beer and reading classic literature. Two days ago, Red Hood was an untouchable  _legend,_ and now...well, he progressed from legend to sex god, and from sex god to more unbelievably human than he could ever have imagined. No less incredible by any means, but just... _human_. He couldn't help but remember he felt the same way when he discovered that Batman was really Bruce Wayne. Only...Bruce Wayne wasn't exactly an average human, was he? Red Hood  _was_.

"Oh, yeah," Hood acknowledged the mess of literature with a thoughtful hum. "I'll have those moved eventually, but if you want-"

"I can't take your  _room_ ," Tim piped up, interrupting him when the man's voice brought him back to reality. Hood blinked in surprise and arched a brow dangerously. Oh god, did he just offend the goddamn Red Hood's hospitality? "I- I'm sorry, I mean... it's just...too much," he scrambled meekly. Hood laughed and dismissed the case with a wave of his hand.

"Forget it. The only thing I ever come in here for is clothes. I've already read and re-read all the books and I don't get a lot of sleep," Hood reasoned impassively. "And don't worry," he grinned almost ferally, making Tim shiver. "The sheets are clean." 

Regardless of how much he really wanted to protest, he didn't dare say no again. "Thank you," he elected instead, closing his eyes and blushing in resignation.

Hood didn't reply, he just grunted in acknowledgement and walked back down towards the living room. "Bathroom's directly across from the bedroom. If you're hungry, I have food in the fridge. Make yourself at home," Hood called back before visibly flopping back down on the couch with a heavy groan. 

Fuck...he wasn't doing a fantastic job of seducing the guy. He kept...not exactly _not_ responding, but...not exactly responding in the way Tim had hoped either. The tour was brief and court and the suggestive joke was a good sign, but...he left in a hurry, too. Maybe he was just being respectful? Afterall, Tim was supposed to be in a tender state right now. Or maybe...Tim was just really, really bad at seduction. God damn nerves. Or maybe the guy just didn't give a fuck. Maybe Dick had been wrong and Tim wasn't his type-

 _Dick_. Tim shivered when he remembered the yellow eyes again, and the way they devoured him when he pinned him against the wall, or traced his long, dangerously soft fingers over his skin.

He felt himself twitch down below before shaking his head and sucking in a deep breath. He could do this. Just like Dick showed him. With one last dose of resolve, he trudged his feet forward and carried himself into the living room where Hood was still lounging on the couch lazily after a long night. He stopped at the man's feet and his breath caught in his throat at the sight. Hood had one leg thrown over the arm of the couch and the other bent comfortably propped up on a pillow against the cushions. He had one hand placed carelessly behind his head and the other holding a lit cigarette to his lips as he took a drag, making the tip flare red before he pulled it away and blew the smoke back out absently. It was one of the hottest things Tim had ever seen -which said a  _lot_ since he had seen Dick naked- and Tim found himself staring helplessly as Hood repeated the process two more times; inhaling, holding the smoke in like he cherished it and then blowing it back out at him with smoldering green eyes... Green eyes that he didn't realize until jut now were staring at him with something of a thoughtful, maybe even amused smoulder.

"Were you going to say something, or...?" Hood asked as he exhaled another smoky breath. Jesus, the cigarette was almost gone now and Tim caught himself hoping that Hood would smoke it just a little bit slower. He had no idea Red Hood smoked....or that smoking could look so fucking hot. But this crazy psychopath sprawled out on the couch so casually with his worn socks and his light happy trail peeking out underneath his black t-shirt and his stupid mesmerizing glare made it downright mouthwatering.

"I-," Tim's mouth was unfairly dry and he had to take an extra moment to swallow. "I want to thank you," Tim murmured quietly as a plan began to form in his head.

"Oh?" Hood removed the hand behind his head in favor of pushing himself up slightly so he could better smirk at Tim.

"Yeah," Tim nodded, decisively taking a slow step forward. Red Hood's green eyes steadily began to lower over Tim's body and Tim knew he was being sized up. He hoped Hood liked what he saw. "I wanna-... I wanna repay you for the favor," he insisted quietly, taking another step. Hood took one last drag of his cigarette before reaching toward the ash tray and snuffing it out. His eyes seemed to burn with an unknown fire that Tim didn't know what to make of.

"If you're doing this because you feel obliged-" Hood began but Tim shook his head and Hood cut himself off.

"I'm not," Tim assured, sinking to his knees beside the man's head. Now that he was close enough, he could hear the man's abnormal breathing and see the way his eyes grew darker by the second.  _Good_. "We're both consenting adults, aren't we?" Tim murmured, dropping his voice to a low whisper, just like Dick taught him. "Exchanging sex for things is what I do for a living. And let me tell you, I  _love_ my job," Tim smiled sharply behind the lie. "But why can't I just fuck for the sake of fucking?" he asked innocently. Hood snorted at that and rolled his eyes, but Tim wasn't going to allow time for thinking; he grabbed Hood's chin and forced him to turn back so he could capture his lips with a hungry groan. Hood seemed to be taken by surprise for just a moment before he registered what was going on and returned the kiss full force. 

Kissing the Red Hood was astronomically different than kissing Dick had been; Dick had been teasing and light and never in one place, whereas Red Hood was all teeth and aggression. Tim was almost struggling to keep up with him, to be honest, but Hood didn't seem to mind all that much. In fact, Hood seemed to get even more into it by yanking Tim up to have him straddle his lap and then deepen the kiss.

Another difference between his two psychopathic lovers, Tim noticed, was that Dick was very pristine about the way he kissed and performed. Red Hood...not so much. He was sloppy and messy , but  _damn_ he was hot while he did it, all feral and handsy while he devoured Tim's mouth with his own. At least Tim didn't have to feel too stressed out that he wasn't very experienced anymore. Still, he'd  _like_ to be. He wanted to impress this guy and let him know that he wasn't any ordinary lay; he wanted to have Red Hood in the palm of his _hand_. 

Literally.

The idea hit him instantaneously at that thought; he wasted no time in shimmying down Red Hood's body until he was level with the man's crotch to press an warm, open mouth kiss against the denim covering. Hood hissed and clenched a hand roughly into his hair in encouragement, making Tim smile as he kissed it again, this time pressing the flat of his tongue where he felt the tip of the other's cock. Hood keened quietly above him and Tim felt his hips twitch underneath him. Tim felt his cheeks burn hotly, but this time, for once, with desire instead of virgin embarassment. He stopped licking just long enough to slip a hand up to undo Hood's fly and tug the hems down to reveal red boxer-briefs and a rather prominent bulge underneath. Tim immediately bent his head and hummed as he nuzzled along the shaft and mouth wetly at the tip, earning a jerk of Hood's hips beneath him. He felt the hand in his hair tighten its grip urgently, making it very clear Hood didn't want to wait. Tim, ever willing to oblige, pressed his fingers underneath the elastic waistband and at last managed to tug the underwear down to meet the jeans and then press both of them down past his knees. 

At this point, Tim did hesitate for a moment; not because he didn't know what to do -well, maybe that was a  _little_ bit the case- but mostly it was just to admire the view. Hood was pale and creamy complexioned, even underneath the carefully trimmed and sculpted bout of dark pubic hair (which was a new addition, since Dick had been completely bare. He wasn't quite as long as Dick had been, either, but he was considerably  _thicker_. Tim shuddered as he imagined what that monster would feel like inside of him, but he shook his head and banished the fantasy away before he could forget what he was trying to do. He bent his head down to nuzzle gently at the course lining of hair, and actually found that he enjoyed the way it brushed against his lips. He also took the opportunity to nose his way down and mouth hungrily at Hood's balls. 

" _Fuck_ ," Hood cursed above him, massaging his fingers absently against Tim's scalp, lost to the feeling. Tim smirked and sucked greedily this time, but the man had already regained control of his reactions.  _Fuck_ was right, Tim thought as he softened up and pressed a trail of light kisses up to the man's throbbing shaft. This was one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced, and he wasn't even on the receiving end right now. 

Tim groaned darkly as his tongue met the base of Hood's cock. He licked a thick stripe all the way up the underside experimentally and felt Hood shiver underneath him. Tim allowed himself to look up at the man and discovered the elder's head was lolled to the side, eyes closed in pleasure and his lips parted just enough to let heavy shallow breaths escape him. Tim swallowed thickly and shifted his own hips at the sight before bending his head back down with renewed vigor and taking the head of Hood's cock into his mouth with a groan at the way it  _tasted_. He heard the man's breath hitch above him and Tim took it as a cue to work his tongue attentively while he pressed himself further down. Hood jerked his hips and Tim felt the hand in his hair loosen and move to press encouragingly against his neck to guide him. 

Tim bobbed his head with pleasured little moans, amazed at himself at how much he  _loved_ this. It turned him on so much that he had to fight not to shove his hand down his own pants for relief. Instead, he settled with grinding his own hips against the couch cushions in time with his pace on Red Hood. Tim could hear Hood's breath steadily speeding up and with each passing moment jerk his hips uncontrollably before reigning himself back in. Tim hummed at that, since smiling was impossible, to which Red Hood's eyes shot open to stare darkly,  _ferally_ at him, making Tim's whimper and grind himself harder against the cushions. Hood hissed in pleasure and, all of a sudden, Tim felt the grip on his neck tighten just before Hood started thrusting into Tim's mouth. Tim whined in surprise at first before closing his eyes in pleasure as he let the man manhandle him. It gave him time to unsnap his own pants and finally - _God-_ take himself in hand and jack off furiously.

In a matter of  _moments,_ Tim was coming into his own hand with a muffled cry of relief, which in turn seemed to make Hood choke and pull out just in time to spill onto Tim's cheek. Both were left collapsed and panting messily against each other in a post coital buzz. For a while, neither of them bothered to move. In fact, it wasn't until the cum on his hand and cheek began to cool and feel very, very sticky that Tim even  _thought_ of moving. He sighed contently and pushed himself up, taking one last appreciative look at Hood's partially naked body before clmbing off the couch completely. Hood watched his every move with a lazy, complacent stare.

"Are you going to do that  _every_ time you want to thank me?" he smirked still a little breathlessly. Tim arched a brow and offered a cynical smile.

"Don't count on it," he lied easily, moving to the kitchen to wipe his face and wash his hands. Hood snorted at that and pulled his jeans back up around his waist quickly.

"I don't suppose I could borrow your shower?" Tim asked, stretching languidly before padding back into the living room to face Hood.

"Help yourself," Hood shrugged, making himself comfy on the couch and pulling out another cigarette. "Towels are underneath the sink, use whatever soap you want. But don't use my goddamn toothbrush," he barked warningly, making Tim want to laugh. 

"Sure thing," Tim rolled his eyes in amusement. 

"Oh, and hey," Hood interrupted as Tim began to walk back toward the hall. 

"Hmm?"

"Grab me a beer from the fridge, will you?" he asked over the sound of his lighter flicking to life. Tim simply rolled his eyes.

 


	6. Rampage

" _Fuck_ ," the boy whined underneath him. "Fuck,  _fuck."_

 _"_ "Hood seems to be rubbing off on you," Dick commented coolly as he pounded into Tim with a rough clap of flesh. "You're swearing more and more each time I see you."  Tim mewled into the pillows and simply arched his bare ass higher for Dick to continue taking. "Are you this desperate whenever  _he's_ fucking you?" Dick smirked breathlessly, spreading Tim's cheeks and groping them roughly. "Or is it just for me?"

Tim, the cheeky little shit, actually managed a muffled laugh, which really shouldn't have been as hot as it was considering he was gripping the sheets for dear life and flushed a deep shade of red. "Actually,  _he's_ the loud one, believe it or not. I'm _quiet_ compared to h-  _oh,_ " Tim cut off with a keen as Dick rammed into the small bundle of nerves deep inside him.

"Interesting," Dick pulled his lips back into a humored, imaginative smirk. To have the most dangerous, powerful man in the underworld of Gotham groaning and just  _begging_ for more, all thick and uncut inside him while his fingernails bit into his thighs - Heh. No one could say he didn't have a vivid imagination. If only he could picture his face; Tim says it's rough looking and stern, but with a wild look that could make anyone feel  _alive_. Green eyes, dark hair, stubble on his cheek...oh, and broad shoulders, a muscular back, hands that could either snap his neck or make him cum just by touching him- Dick shuddered at the thought and sped up in desperation. If Tim could keep his head bent down _just like that,_ Dick could almost picture it. But, unfortunately, with a sharp, overwhelmed whimper below him, Tim convulsed  and simply collapsed in a heap. Dick grunted in annoyance at having his rhythm thrown off and found himself sadly ripped away from what would have been a pretty fantastic orgasm. He could have kept going and climaxed anyway, but at this point, the illusion was dead, so whatever. He pulled slowly out of Tim, still a little slick before wiping himself off on the sheets and leaning with an unimpressed scowl against the wall.

Tim shivered by himself less than a foot away for a number of countless minutes; in fact, Dick was actually starting to shift in impatience before the boy finally sighed and pulled himself up to sit cross-legged in front of Dick.

" _Finally_ ," Dick grunted, shoving himself off the wall and leaning forward. "What have you got for me this time, baby?" he amended sweetly after seeing the stricken, almost... _hurt_ look on Tim's face at his brashness. Poor thing... if only Dick had the pity to care. It wasn't his problem if the boy got his feelings hurt, this was the big leagues and he knew better.

"You don't have to act like I'm such a  _chore_ ," Tim scoffed coldly. Dick rolled his eyes indifferently. "If you don't want to fuck, you're an adult; you can just say  _no."_

"Please," Dick snorted, leaning to one side on his hand. " _Then_ what would you do for a piece of ass?"

"Easy; I have a hot mob boss for a roommate who won't tell me no," Tim replied smugly without missing a beat. Dick had to bite back a twinge of irritation (he wasn't jealous of the brat. He  _wasn't_ ),  but he had to admit that the little shit got him on that one. That  _is_ what he hired him for, after all.

"Regardless," Dick shifted to cross his legs impatiently. "I believe it's time for an update. What's new? Did you get his name, yet?"

"No," Tim muttered quietly. Great, Dick thought in disappointment; it's been six _weeks_ , what's the hold up? "He doesn't answer personal questions and he gets suspicious every time I do. He'll stop talking to me and disappear for days on end, I _told_ you that," Tim sighed warily.  _  
_

"Have you followed him?" Dick asked, piking up curiously.

"No, stupid. The last thing I need is to get caught dogging Hood if he's already suspicious of me. These things take  _time_ , you'll just have to be patient," Time scolded with a frown.

"Then what  _do_ you have for me?" Dick snapped irritably. 

Tim almost flinched, but steeled himself and stuck out his chin haughtily. "He let me go to two of his meetings last week," he smirked smugly.

" _What_?" Dick's eyes widened and he straightened up immediately.

"There are six major trades going on in the next two weeks; three for automatic firearms, one with some kind of nuclear chemical, one for robotic equipment, and one for forged documents to give to his distributors," he informed, scrunching up his brows as he pulled the information from memory.

"What, no drugs?" Dick smirked jokingly as he scratched his head.

"Actually, the District bosses handle that, they just give  _him_ 40%." Dick whistled, impressed at that. Hood really had his shit together, huh? 

"So, uh," Dick hummed thoughtfully. "Are any of his trades...tonight?" he asked with an innocent smile.

Tim's eyes went wide before scowling and shaking his head. "Uh uh, no way. If you even think about sabotaging, then I'll-"

"You'll  _what_ , sweetheart?" Dick rested his chin on his hand with a challenging expression.

"I-" Tim stuttered before squaring his shoulders intently. "Look, if his business starts crapping out  _right after he lets me in_ , he's going to know something's up. I won't last another day if you try anything," he warned urgently. Dick sighed and rolled his eyes dismissively.

"I won't mess up the trades," he promised heavily, even bringing up his right hand in a mock salute.

Tim chewed the inside of his cheek hesitantly. "Well...he's supervising one tonight at midnight by the docks," he admitted slowly. Dick's eyes must have gleamed, because Tim was almost visibly sweating in worry now. "You're not going to- tonight's not  _the night,_ is it?"

Dick had to bite back a laugh. "I'm not going to kill him tonight, don't worry about your boyfriend." 

Tim scowled indignantly and snapped. "Please, I was only concerned that I'd have to disappear earlier than planned."

"What do you mean, Timmy?" Dick furrowed his brows dangerously and started slowly reaching for one of his swords. "Are you going to ditch out on me?"

"Of course not, we had a deal," Tim rolled his eyes, pretending not to be terrified at Dick's silent ferocity. "But on the day you decide to kill him, don't expect me to be anywhere within a 500 mile radius."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dick retorted coolly, bringing his hand back to rest in his naked lap. Really, though, it was cute that Tim had an escape plan. It was sad that it would never work.

"Great," Tim ended awkwardly. before falling into a tense silence. Dick stared unwaveringly for a while and Tim plain just lost his nerve and stared at the ugly print on the hotel quilt. It was  _that time_ now; Strange and lingering and the time that Dick usually kicked Tim into a taxi before he had time to think. Maybe he'd get lucky again tonight.

"Are we done, then, Timmy?" Dick asked coolly, plucking absently at one of the loose threads on the blanket. Tim didn't answer right away. It took him a good minute to actually pluck up the courage before finally meeting Dick's eyes.

"No. Dick...you've been avoiding the subject for six weeks, it's time to hold up your end of the bargain," he demanded softly. For a second, Dick was tempted to reach out and snap the little shit's neck right there. After that moment, though, the feeling sunk right into his stomach and dropped all the way to his toes. Well, fuck.

"Yes," Dick replied unwillingly. He would have said that no, he hadn't been avoiding it, but that would have been a lie. Really, all he did was try desperately to fuck Tim's brains out every time enough to forget about it, but after pissing him off and not really trying today, he shouldn't be surprised. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything you can tell me. Do you want me to question you to death or do you wanna just get it all out?" he offered, stretching out and propping himself up on the pillows. Dick wrinkled his nose and fought the impulse to snarl. Did he take little doses of pain or one long bought to get it all over with? 

Fuck it.

"Richard John Grayson... that's my full name my parent's gave me at birth," he started. Might as well start from the beginning. "I was born in Romania 26 years ago, but my parents immigrated here for a better life, which they thought they'd find by joining a circus," Dick rolled his eyes, trying to remain brash and distant.

Tim arched his brows in interest and leaned closer.

"I was raised as an acrobat. I could ride elephants before I could walk and I was taught to juggle like the clowns before I could  _talk_. We, um...we had this show..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My mother, father and I...we were the  _Flying Graysons_ ," Dick shivered saying it. Even now, he couldn't resist voicing the theatrical flare from the words, which only made saying it more painful. 

Tim seemed to gag suddenly his eyes widened inexplicably, which Dick ignored. So he'd heard of them, go figure. "During one of the shows one day, the lines for the trapeze snapped...they fell to their deaths. I watched the whole thing," his explained darkly, flashing back and seeing the look of terror on his mother's face as she fell. "I remember crying all night...I remember not eating for days and telling Haley I didn't want to perform anymore. I remember it like it happened  _yesterday."_

" _I was there_ ," Tim squeaked, curling in on himself and appearing smaller than usual to Dick.

"What?"

" _I was there_ ," he repeated. "I saw  _everything_ , I- oh my  _god_ , why didn't I recognize you?" he rocked himself back and forth with his eyes bugged out like crazy. "You did a quadruple flip, just for me... I asked you before the show," he murmured softly, not meeting Dick's eyes. Dick, however, stared in horror at the boy.

"You-..." Holy god. "You're-..." Tim flinched away as Dick scrambled for something to say. "You were...a lot smaller back then," Dick commented with a forced smile, remembering now all too clearly. Tim looked up at him in disbelief.

"You're not- why aren't you freaking out?" he asked in awe.

"Should I be? I spent enough time freaking out back  _then_ and every day since. I feel like the novelty's worn off," Dick lied, hiding the tremble in his voice. This boy was there when his parents died...he saw everything. He  _knows_. He  _understands_. They were  _friends_. How the fuck does a person deal with that?

"Oh," Tim nodded gently. "I- I'm so sor-"

"Don't," Dick interrupted and held up a hand to stop him. "Don't do that. It's long since history, alright?" Tim blinked and nodded swiftly.

"Alright, sorry, I just-..." he cleared his throat. "What  _happened_ to you?" 

Dick grimaced and reached up to scratch his head. "That's the fun part of the story, actually," he began darkly. "Once my parents were gone, I was a useless mess; Hayley sold me to the Court of Owls."

"The...what?" Tim shook his head and blinked through the confusion, obviously never having heard of it.

"The Court of Owls," Dick repeated dully, pulling one knee up to rest his chin on. "A top secret organization. I don't really know what they do, to be honest," Dick frowned thoughtfully. "All I know is they tortured me...every single day for over a decade...and taught me how to kill...how not to feel anything...how to become  _this,"_ he gestured to himself, trying to hide the disgust. This was getting out of hand, he shouldn't be talking about this. 

"What? What...what'd they do to you?" Tim asked skeptically.

"Everything," Dick muttered, glaring hard at nothing. "Name it; beatings, starvation, sleep deprivation, sensory deprivation, water boarding, genetic mutation, forcing me to watch as they mutilated innocent men, women and children and then making me do it," he listed, trying not to remember their screams.

"You- you actually-"

"You knew what I was when you got into this," Dick snapped coolly. "Of course I did it; otherwise, they'd do the same thing to me. Only, they  _healed_ me afterwards and threatened to do it all again if I didn't comply," he spat. "I did horrible things to countless people and I had nightmares every single day. I didn't have a choice, _this_ is what I was made to become," he growled dangerously.  Tim visibly swallowed and said nothing. Dick took the chance to take a deep breath and steady his heart rate; calm. He needed to calm down. Everything happened for a reason; it was terrible, but if he wanted the nightmares to stay away, he had to remain cold. Nothing mattered; everyone dies eventually. This was who he was; never feeling, never caring, only obedient and merciless. Forget this memory bullshit. Forget Tim Drake. Forget his parents. Just relay the information like promised and make sure Tim Drake never lived to tell the story later.

"That was all years ago," Talon continued coolly, flattening his tone and stretching out to crack his neck. "Now I can see in the dark, I can heal almost as soon as I get injured, and I'm literally the best assassin in the world," he hummed. "Talons always are. There's been generations of us and the world has never even  _noticed_. How cool, huh?"

"You don't want revenge?" Tim asked suddenly, his face unreadable, but his eyes screamed in disbelief. "For what they did to you...you don't want revenge?"

Dick stopped dead. Revenge? No. No, no,  _no-_ He felt his limbs start to twitch almost electrically and his mind start to race. He couldn't, he couldn't...they'd destroy him if he even  _dared_. Of course he wanted revenge, but he knew what they'd  _do._ No...he couldn't. He can't.

"No."

Tim exhaled and closed his eyes almost sadly. The poor thing pitied him.

"Right...of course," Tim looked back up with a blank, unreadable expression. "And you know nothing of the Court of Owls other than what they did to you?"

"Yep, that's right hot stuff," Dick smiled dangerously. 

"Not even where they are?" 

Dick's yellow eye twitched and he clenched his teeth. "Don't you dare ask me that," he hissed threateningly. Tim shut up and actually obliged him for once, lucky for him.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" he asked the boy sweetly, making Tim squirm just a little.

"What happens when you fail a mission?" he asked quietly. "When you don't kill who they want you to?"

Dick stilled and the fake smile melted right off his face. "Can't say. I've never failed," he replied darkly. "They'll either  _'re-educate'_ me...torture me and teach me a lesson, or...I'll be out of a job," he hinted subtly. Tim winced and nodded.

"Anything else, or are we done here?" he asked, hoping that Tim realized the question was rhetorical this time.

"No," Tim shook his head quietly. "No, I-...I'm good."

"Same time next week, then, hot stuff?" The change in tone was so instantaneous, it made Dick's head spin. But at least it wasn't sullen and dark anymore. Well...darker than normal, anyway.

Tim forced a smile and coughed out a laugh. "Yeah...yeah...sure thing."

...................................

Three hours later, Dick was flying. 

He was unseen across the rooftops as he just raced across the entire city. He had been raging since Tim left; he had destroyed the hotel room and accidentally (well,  _maybe_ on purpose) behead the angry manager who dared to bang on the door and demand that he leave since he was  _disturbing the other guests_. 

Fuck Tim for making him go back into the past. Fuck Tim for making him talk. That should have been  _Tim's_ head rolling on the carpet.

Well, he reminded himself as he twirled off the edge of a rooftop and landed perfectly on the ground before leaping up to another balcony; he  _did_ agree to it, to be fair. It wasn't entirely Tim's fault. 

Jesus...

The whole thing made him want to rip someone's throat out or tear something to shreds. He needed to do  _something_ , goddamn it, and if that meant flying until he was out of breath and his muscles stung, then so be it. Too bad two and a half hours on the run couldn't do that anymore.

He needed to kill...he needed some kind of thrill, he needed to get his _mind_ back... He needed...

Oh, god, he was in the warehouse district now. He could see the docks less than a mile away; he could see little flashes of lights and hear disgruntled murmurs far below. Tim said Hood had a some kind of deal going on tonight, right?

That meant  _Hood_ was here somewhere. That meant the game was on; he could get Hood to play with him.

Immediately, Talon was off creeping and crawling silently through the night. His heart was pounding almost violently in his chest and the excited electricity in his veins was almost maddening. Two more blocks to go... 

One more block...

He knew the men couldn't see him, because he blended in with the darkness, but he liked to play in the shadows of a large roof anyway, just for kicks. He could see three men below, centered between two trailer trucks with the ass ends facing each other. There were other men scattered around - guards of some kind for the heavy lifting, he supposed - but the three men in the middle seemed to be the ones deep in a debate.

"Twenty  _thousand_ , Mikey, that was the  _deal."_

"I changed my mind. Sixty grand or we  _walk."_

"You know I don't decide that. Hood only gave me twenty-"

Dick scoffed to himself. How petty and predictable.

"Tell you what boys," he grinned, dropping gracefully down to the ground. He could hear dozens and dozens of guns cocking and pointing directly at him. "Here's the new deal; you give your goodies to  _me_ and I kill you all for  _free."_

He heard laughter from one of the men standing in the center. He was a fat piece of shit with a thick mustache covering up his mouth to accent his beady eyes. "Look, Donnie, we got a joker."

"Pretty one too, ain't 'e?" his partner, a sickly pale and skinny man with a ratty face and a comb over snickered. "What d'ya say we teach 'im a lesson and put 'im in the truck. 'e'D sell as high as dem girls back home!"

Dick arched a brow and smirked dangerously. "I'm flattered, really. But I'm afraid I'm too high quality for  _your_ grubby, disgusting little hands," he smiled smoothly. Both of the men snarled at him, making Dick laugh as he stepped forward. "Go on. Bring it," he dared. The second one of them tried to grab him, Dick's blade was out and the man's hand was severed on the ground and blood was seeping everywhere while the fatso screamed. Dick quickly put a stop to that by shoving his dagger into the man's trachea and dropping him to the ground, choking on his own blood. 

Comb-over was next with a slice to the gut and a quick snap to the neck. The third man had already bailed, and Talon really didn't care to go after him; all he cared about was to use Comb-over as a shield from the bullets while he slayed each and every one of the gunmen shooting at him.

He had gotten to four of them before the last eight seemed to come to their senses and start running for their lives. By that time, Talon was absolutely lost in bloodlust. He bared his teeth before launching himself at his seventh victim. Before the man could so much as scream, however, Dick felt someone grab his collar and yank him off violently. Another gunman, it turned out, who now had his AK-47 pointed directly over Talon's face. Talon twisted out and kicked the man's feet out from under him. Before he could protest, Dick was slamming his head into the ground mercilessly until the feet stopped kicking and maybe even a little after that.

Jesus...he'd never raged enough for an overkill like this, he mused to himself, panting as he rose to his feet. He could barely hear the others as they ran for their lives through the alleys of the warehouses back the way he came. Should he chase them down? Did he care enough?

Before he could decide, however, he heard heavy treading footsteps coming toward him. Not frantic ones trying to escape, but sure footed and steady; someone who was unafraid. Dick smiled and sighed almost blissfully as he turned around.

"I was so hoping to see you," he smiled cheerfully over the lifeless corpse below him. 

"It's been a while," Hood retorted coolly, just as dangerous and guarded as the first night. "I was wondering when I'd see you again. I have to admit... I didn't picture it like this."

"Like what? Didn't think I was capable of killing?" he played flirtatiously.

"Didn't think you were capable of losing it. You were sloppy," Hood tsked almost sadly, shaking his head. Dick froze and blinked while a cold feeling clenched in his chest. He took another look around at the seven dead bodies strewn across the gravel, with blood streaked across the walls and seeping around everywhere beside the broken bodies. It was...a mess.

"It looks like you had a  _tantrum_ ," Hood audibly smirked. Dick would give anything to punch the look off his face, if only he could see it.

"Give me a break, it's been a rough day," Dick rolled his eyes. "Keep antagonizing me, I can go for an eighth."

Hood laughed and crossed his arms. "So how'd you know?" his voice cut through the air statically. "This was a private exchange. How did you find us?"

Shit. 

"I was running around and I came across those idiots arguing and thought I'd let off some steam," he shrugged passively. It was mostly truthful, though, right?

Hood hummed and cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "So you going to kill me now or are we just dancing again tonight?" Dick smirked, dropping his weapons to show a truce before prancing gracefully step by step until he was directly in front of Red Hood.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a dance, hot stuff," he purred, daring to press a leg between Hood's thighs and breathe down his neck hotly. Hood stiffened and he could feel the man clutch his gun in its holster.

"Now, now, calm down," he murmured, sliding his hands down Hood's sides to take the gun and drop it to the side. "I don't want to kill you tonight," he whispered softly as electricity flooded through his veins in excitement. How long had he had to listen to Tim's stories about Hood fucking him so good he couldn't walk? It felt like too long now; it felt like the perfect solution to this madness. "Maybe next time, but tonight I just wanna get fucked and go home. Pretty please?"

He could hear Hood's breath become shallow and slightly uneven. "You want me to fuck you?" he repeated in disbelief, though not unwillingness that Dick could tell.

"Hard and fast," Dick nodded, rolling his hips against Hood's, where unmistakable proof was that Hood was considering. "On the ground, against the alley wall, wherever you'd like," he purred pleadingly, kissing the sliver of bare skin underneath the Hood's helmet. "Come on...from one killer to another," he grinned. "You have my word I won't take your life tonight. Just your cock," he grinned. Plus he kind of already promised the little shit who's working for him, so Hood _had_ to stay alive just for tonight.

He could hear the man smirk inside the mask before shoving Dick back into a dark alley between warehouses and pressing him against the wall beside three large crates. "You really want to do this?" Hood asked him sternly. Dick snickered and grabbed his hand, leading it seamlessly down to press between his own legs to show just how hard he was right now. 

" _Fuck_ me already, will you?" Dick commanded between ragged breaths, pressing his hips needily into Hood's palm. Hood only hesitated for a second before pulling back and pressing the release on his helmet and yanking it off. Dick honestly wasn't expecting that; he sucked in a sharp breath and was only slightly disappointed at the bright red domino mask blocking what he knew to be green eyes. Otherwise, the face was chiseled and hard cut just like Tim said it was, with dark hair hot enough to rival his own.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath before crashing their lips together, almost devouring one another as the helmet clattered  forgotten to the ground beside them. 

Hood tasted like smoke, whiskey and something sweet, which made Dick press deeper for more. Hood uttered a muffled laugh against Dick's lips and jerked Dick's hips forward eagerly, squeezing his ass and groaning as he did so. Dick smirked when Hood squeezed it again, realizing how perfect it was. Dick was highly aware of just how perfect his ass was; Tim just never got a chance to appreciate it because he was obviously a bottom. It made his cock twitch now that Hood could appraise it and fuck it properly.

Immediately, Dick squirmed and turned around so that his front was pressed against the wall and his back was pressed against Hood's front. He could feel Hood's hardness so he took it upon himself to grind his ass against it greedily. Hood thrusted against him roughly before reaching around and almost ripping the fly open so he could  yank the pants down ferally. In less than a second he heard Hood unzip his own pants and shuddered when he felt the warmth of the man's cock between his legs. 

Dick bent over enough to arch his back and press against him in wait.

Hood, however, was far more generous than he expected once again. He heard a brief sucking sound before he felt two fingers suddenly pressed inside him, stretching and preparing him. Dick moaned and rocked his hips in time with the digits; he definitely missed this feeling. It's been way too long since he's been fucked like this and he couldn't wait to have the real thing pounding inside him. 

Hood's breath was shallow and ragged against his back and his teeth were deliciously sharp on his skin. Before Dick knew it, the third and fourth finger had come and gone, and now Hood was pressing inside him and Dick was crying out pleas and curses against the cold metal walls. No wonder Hood had taken the time to stretch him, he could already feel this man was  _huge_.

Jesus, Tim was lucky. 

"Oh, god, oh  _fuck,_ " Dick whimpered, thrusting his own hips back to take the man in more. "Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me_ ," he chanted taking himself in hand and jacking hard and rough in time with Hood's new pace. His fingers were digging into his hips just right and if he just adjusted a little bit to the right-

" _Oh god,_ oh yeah," Dick cried out. Hood thrusted into him ecstatically, Dick matched him pace for pace; it felt so fucking good when he climaxed that he didn't even care  that he face was scraped against the cold metal wall or that Hood spilled his load inside him.  This is exactly what he needed, he realized as Hood pulled out and tucked himself away.

Dick took a moment to come down from his high before stretching out and eventually pulling his own pants back up too. 

"Mm, thanks hot stuff," he grinned hazily as he turned around. He could hear Hood smirk, but his Hood was already back on, so he couldn't see it. "We should do that again before I actually have to kill you." 

Hood laughed at that and shook his head. "Don't count on it, sweet cheeks," he retorted before turning to walk away. "Oh, and..." he turned around pulling out a small silver dagger-  _Dick's_ dagger, he realized as he patted its empty holster. He must have dropped it on his rampage earlier...shit. "Thanks for the souvenir."

"You son of a-" but Hood was already gone. 

"Alright," Dick sucked on his tongue haughtily for a moment before smirking. "Fine. We'll see about that."

 


	7. Introducing the Flying Rodent

You know, life as the Red Hood had always been... _interesting_ to say the least; always so covert and top secret that it gave you the paranoia and adrenaline rush of a 007 spy movie every single day. Except that, you know, Red Hood was the anarchist mastermind and not the agent. Oh, it had it's perks; he could get any guy or girl that caught his interest, make more money than Bruce fucking _Wayne_ if he really tried, play vigilante or psychopath depending on the night, and pretty much get anything his twisted little heart desired. Exciting right?

What the fuck ever. The novelty had worn off years ago.

The tired face that looked far older than it should at 23 looked almost gaunt in the mirror. Expressionless or exceedingly  _blank_ to say the least, anyway. Not the kind of face a life of so much _"excitement_ " should portray. Actually to be honest, he hadn't expected to live past the legal drinking age; in his opinion he probably should have been dead 7 or 8 years ago. Leave it to him to cling to the pitiful shreds of what life had given him and even after achieving a fucking _empire_ , not appreciating it. Why did it all seem so... _empty_?

Hood shook his head and rolled his eyes at his broody reflection. He was being ridiculous again; this depression really didn't suit him. So what if he was trapped in the politics of the criminal underworld? So what that it all meant nothing? He didn't have anywhere else to go anyway. Even so... he wondered _why_ more often than he'd like to admit.

He yawned tiredly and rubbed at his eyes as he turned away from the bathroom mirror. _Why_? Why did he stay here and put up with the whining and complaining that Speed sales were decreasing or gun shipments were being hijacked? Why did he let himself lose so much god damn _sleep_ over this shit hole city? It wasn't his fucking responsibility, it's not like he actually _cared_. And now he had to deal with a crazy ass hitman who was hired by god-knows-who for god-knows why. He was annoying and lethal and absolutely  _irresistible_.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

Who the hell was this guy? Seriously, the man wants to kill him and everything about him from his _looks_ down to the way he _moves_ screams deadly, and he stumbles upon him tonight in some kind of uncontrollable frenzy? And god, the way he flirts and the way he pleaded so desperately...the way he _tasted_ and felt so tight around his- Hood shook his head in frustration to clear the thought away. That's another thing, why the _hell_ did he have to fuck him? Was Talon really that insane or did Hood literally just fall into some kind of sick trap? He could have left his _helmet_ on at least, but _no_ , he just couldn't resist the urge to kiss and bite and _taste_. He rubbed his aching temples with a scowl as he trudged wearily into his dark living room. God, he needed a drink. He dragged himself over to the fridge and pulled out a beer blindly, popping it open and knocking it back without a second thought. Thank God for Tim restocking them earlier, that kid was a life savor.

Oh shit, _Tim_. Hood groaned and slammed the fridge door shut as he muttered a curse under his breath.

When did he start becoming so fucking reliant on the boy? Hood  brooded, falling with a graceless _thunk_ onto the couch and sighing. Ever since that first night, the kid had him hooked. Come on, a fantastic surprise blowjob like that and then he's all shy and awkward the next day? Scratch that, the next _6 weeks_. (Jeez, he was really a sucker for the men here lately. Well...specifically these _two_. Should he feel guilty?) Tim never did offer a follow up blow job, but Hood would be lying if he said he didn't jack off every time he thought about it. On top of that, the kid actually did _good_  as his assistant. He kept up with Hood spectacularly and answered every call, ran every errand, and performed every task  _perfectly_ and without fail; everything from fetching take out at 3 a.m. to housekeeping and laundry to driving the get-away car to driving him around town to different meeting. Sometimes Hood came up with the most bullshit ideas he could think of just to test the kid, like dressing in drag and belching the alphabet to a wino. _That_ had been fun to watch, he recalled with a smile. But Tim would follow through without fail and give him "the look" and bicker later on when Hood teased him. For a pale kid who looked like he weighed a buck ten soaking wet, Tim was a feisty little guy.

Hood had to admit, he was growing fond of his new roommate/assistant. Did he trust him? Well... He cringed a little and took another swig of his drink. He liked Tim plenty, really. But trust was something he really had a problem with. He trusted him enough to buy his groceries and know his favorite brand of beer and take out. He even trusted him enough to catalog his work schedule and keep track of his meetings, and _that_ was really something. And...well, sometimes he had thi _s_ odd little _ache_ in his chest and he longed to tell Tim more...to tell him _everything_. He felt far too weary far too often and sometimes it all became just a little...too much. And for the past several weeks, he'd been back and forth with himself, debating whether or not he could actually talk to Tim.

Hood chugged the last of his beer and pulled out his phone contemplatively. It was getting pretty late and it had been a hell of a night with the business deal massacre and whatever happened with Talon... usually he never worried about Tim being out this late (and honestly he still wasn't; that boy could handle himself well. He had discovered that when he told off one of his mercenaries at a meeting without even _blinking_ ), but right now he was feeling too restless to sleep and for some reason Tim was just stuck on his mind.

Tim wouldn't be pleased if he knew Hood was doing this, but he hacked easily into the GPS locator in Tim's phone that he had given him and pressed Find. It only took a second before the little red dot appeared on his map. He was across town... just outside of...Drake Manor? Why? Hood furrowed his brows in confusion; he sat forward and stared hard at the little screen. Was something wrong with him? The dot never moved, it just stayed blinking constantly in one place, slowly driving Hood mad with curiosity.

What was so interesting that was at Drake Manor? From what he knew, the Drakes stayed holed up in that house after the death of their little boy or something; never talked to anybody or did anything. Was there a connection between Tim and the Drakes somehow? Was Tim okay? Jesus...

He had to find out. Hood stood up quickly and slid the phone back into his pocket before sliding on his leather jacket and grabbing his keys. He needed to know what was going on...he wanted to know once and for all if Tim could be trusted and this was a surefire way to find out.

******

 

Tim stared quietly behind the iron gate up at  huge white, shadowy walls. Funny, the pristine lawn and the dark, spotless windows should seem familiar, but it all seemed so alien to him now. 

It had been years since he'd last been here...to his home. And not a god damn thing changed. It was like Tim had never existed there at all; there was no evidence that he had ever touched the place...that  _anyone_ had ever touched it. It just loomed over him, big and empty and cold, just the way he remembered. Were his parents actually there or did they just abandon the place after he left, since they no longer had a burden to make them stay?

Tim sighed wistfully. He had no idea what made him come here tonight, but troubled as he was after the visit with Talon earlier, he had just walked and walked and walked and then suddenly just kind of found himself here. Old habits die hard or something like that. 

He shouldn't be here. It almost felt like returning to the scene of a crime... and it was most certainly too close to a specific vigilante who he was trying very hard to avoid. Literally, he was just three estates down. If the man even caught a  _glimpse_ of him... Tim shuddered and didn't pursue the thought any further.  This part of his life was over; Tim Drake was dead and as far as Batman was concerned, the Informant was still hiding deep underground. That was the way it was going to stay, Tim determined solemnly as he turned to trudge slowly away.

Now he had to figure out a way to get all the way back across town... and- "Oh  _no_ ," he groaned as he slipped his hands into empty pockets - he was out of change for cab fare. He could always  call _Hood..._ No. He'd ask too many questions and get suspicious of the location. Looks like he'd have to hike for thirty seven blocks on foot. "Wonderful," he muttered to himself grumpily as he turned quickly down on the main road. What a night.

For a long time, there was no sound but the drag of his footsteps against the gravel and the  _woosh_ of an occasional car going by. He squinted as one particular pair of exceedingly bright headlights shined on his face and, to his annoyance, found that the car to which they belonged was slowing down. Tim's heart skipped a beat and he looked down, dead set on not looking at whoever it was and hoping like hell that it was just some John he could turn down and forget about. 

 _Please keep going, please keep going._ The sound of brakes squealing sent him into a slight panic. 

 _Don't stop. Don't stop, just have your look and go,_ he begged silently as he started walking faster. Well, the car didn't  _stop_ , exactly...No, this was worse; it was now rolling slowly beside him, matching his pace easily. He couldn't see through the heavily tinted window and really, he didn't want to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He could take care of this. It was that kind of stupid thinking that, definitely against his better judgement, made him stop walking. The car also came to a halt and Tim steeled himself enough to turn slowly to face it. _  
_

For a moment, they were at a standstill. But all too soon, the window rolled down smoothly and a smug, semi-familiar pale face (he knew this guy, he _knew_ him...who was he?) was sneering at him. "Well, well. What are _you_ doing out here so late, gorgeous? Don't you know it's... _dangerous_ for pretty things like you to go walking all by yourself at this time of night?" Tim froze, immediately on his guard. "How 'bout you come on over here with  _us_ ," he gestured seductively at the three other shadowed men who were leering from behind.

Tim clenched his teeth and swallowed hard. "No thanks," he forced a smile. "My ride is on his way," he lied smoothly.

"Oh, right, you mean Red Hood?" the smooth voice replied with a harsh chuckle. Tim's hackles suddenly raised on the back of his neck; oh god,  _no._ It was one of Hood's enemies? "Don't worry, baby, he sent us to look after you. Come on and take a ride with us," he beckoned, although the way he opened the car door made it seem more like a command.

No...this wasn't an enemy of Hood's. Not if they knew Tim personally. This was one of Hood's sleazy little regional drug lords... the one he told to kiss his ass over two weeks ago during one of Hood's meetings when he tried to make a move on him. Oh, shit, oh  _shit._ Tim was frozen now, eyes wide with fear as he gripped his cell phone tight in his pocket. He had to call Hood... _now._

"What are you waitin' for, Get. In. The.  _Car_ ," the man growled, planting one foot on the pavement as if he were about to get out and drag him in. "The big guy ain't here to save you; you're  _our_ pet now. Get  _in,_ you little whore!" he shouted, finally launching himself at Tim. 

Tim squeaked and ducked just in time before twisting and slamming his palm into the man's nose as hard as he could, not even daring to feel proud when he heard the sickening  _crack_. In fact, he didn't stop at all, he just turned and bolted for his life. Unfortunately to say, he didn't get very far before the sound of three more car doors opening and slamming signified that the other three goons were chasing him. Even more unfortunately, while Tim was great at running away and disappearing, actually  _running_ wasn't his strong suit. The men cornered him in an alley and Tim's back was quite literally against the wall as the men snarled and laughed evilly at him.

"Little... _shit_ ," the leader he had counter-attacked earlier sputtered, wiping away a small stream of blood as he finally caught up. "Oh, kid, you'll be sorry you did that," he warned menacingly with a twisted, angry smile. There was a silent pause where all Tim could hear was the pounding of his own heart drumming in his ears. Then, "Get him, boys." Tim didn't even have time to scream before three large bodies came at him full speed. He managed to dodge one and trip him into a trash bin and even elbow the second one in the collar. It was the third one who clipped him with a painful punch in the face, and just like that, they had him pinned helplessly against the alley wall; his arms were pinned by the elbows and wrists by the first two and the third one leered over him, hand clenched around his throat and knee wedged between his legs to keep him in place. The boss, hidden behind the massive bulk of Goon 3, cackled triumphantly.

"You're even cuter when you're terrified, baby doll," he snickered, finally coming back into view as he maneuvered around his henchman. At this point, boss-man was so close to his face that he could smell his foul breath that reeked of cigars and booze. " _Relax_ ," he crooned softly, pressing his dirty thumb against Tim's lips hungrily and forcing Tim's chin up willfully. "Oh, come on, don't close your eyes. This will all be over quickly," he promised with a greedy whisper before jamming his disgusting mouth against Tim's own. Tim screeched and thrashed as much as he could, but the henchman held him steadfast; it didn't matter, he had to resist, he had to  _stop_ them-

"What the  _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" an outraged voice rang out. Immediately all four of Tim's attackers whipped around and Tim almost cried with joy. "H- _Hood_ ," he choked in relief as he spotted the familiar red helmet over a bulky shoulder. And just like that, the goons released him. Tim fell to the ground in a shaking heap but grasped at the wall desperately trying to pull himself back up. He didn't know how Hood found him, and right now he didn't care; he was only extraordinarily dumbfounded and thankful.

"R-R-Red Hood! Hey, man, h-how's, uh... we were just  _talking_ to your pal here-" the Leader stammered, wringing his hands in panic as he tried to explain.

"Oh, yeah, that definitely looked like  _talking_ alright," Hood retorted venomously, stomping forward and snapping his gun holster open. The terrified drug dealer shrieked and stumbled back, falling onto his knees.

"Oh god, oh p-please, have m-mercy," he blubbered, tears leaking from his beady eyes. Hood snorted, cocking the gun and shoving it right between his eyes.

"Have  _mercy?_ " he repeated in disbelief. "Have  _mercy?!_ Just like the  _mercy_ you had on  _him_ ," Hood gestured to Tim, who was standing on wobbly knees, watching against the wall. The trembling little man gulped and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I-... _I-_ "

"Wrong answer," Hood hissed coldly before lowered his aim right into the madman's lap and pulled the trigger without hesitation. Tim flinched as the loud  _bang_ of the gunshot accompanied the  most blood curdling scream he had ever heard. Six weeks. S _ix weeks,_ and not only was this the first time he'd seen Hood kill...it was his first time to witness torture, too. Holy god. "And  _you_ ," he barked maliciously toward the three henchman, who were pale faced and nauseous looking at their mutilated boss. Immediately they flinched and one of them even started crying hysterically. Hood aimed his pistol with icy intent at goon #2 and cocked it once more. "I don't know where to shoot you  _first_ ," he snarled at the man, who was whimpering now. "I should just shoot you all in the cocks, but you were just  _following orders_ ," he mused. "Still, though," he added darkly. "Disgusting creatures like yourselves actually  _enjoy_ this shit...So I'll leave it up to you. You want a quick death? Or you wanna bleed out and say goodbye to your family jewels?"

Tim watched, frozen and perplexed at the horror going on. The three men all turned to look at their whimpering mess of a boss (go figure they couldn't just make the easy decision without his permission) and Tim just stared helplessly at Hood.  _Stop_ , he begged silently.  _Stop, please. There's been enough violence tonight._

"Well?" Hood sneered. "You're wasting my patience. You have five  _seconds_ before I decide  _for_ you."

"Five."  _Oh god, Hood, please just end this. Beat them to a pulp, but don't do_   **this**.

"Four."  _Make it stop, make it stop!_ _  
_

"Three." Tim closed his eyes and turned away. He didn't want to see what was about to happen either way.

"Two." The men were shrieking pleas of forgiveness and remorse now. They were all on their knees and Red Hood was ruthless.

"One."

 

_Clang-_

Wait... _that_ wasn't the right sound.

"What the- * _clatter*_ oh fuck, not  _you,_ " Hood's voice called out in annoyance, making Tim open up his eyes in surprise. What he saw made him want to suffocate and bolt in the opposite direction.  _Oh, no_ was right, Tim thought to himself, trying not to feel sick.

"That's  _enough_ ," the new voice commanded threateningly. It was him... the dark knight himself, clad in his black cape  and cowl and shadowy armor, standing in front of the three men protectively; _Batman_.

Hood audibly snarled, now disarmed since Batman had knocked over his gun after throwing a batarang. "Back off! They harassed and tried to _defile_ -"

" _I know_ ," Batman boomed back authoritatively. "And they'll pay the price. But it's not up to  _you_ to-"

"Oh, save your hypercritical morality bull shit for the masses," Hood snapped angrily. "These men are my... _employees_ , and how I  _discipline_ my  _employees_ in my line of work is none of your god damn  _business!"_ he shouted. Batman stared coldly at the crime lord and Tim, trying to appear as small as possible, watched them anxiously.

"They're not just your employees, Hood, they're human  _beings-"_

"If that's what you want to call this pile of scum," Hood interrupted with an indignified snort.

"And you let them, if not  _encouraged_ them to live this kind of life by  _employing_ them," Batman retorted icily without missing a beat. Hood jerked back, surprised apparently.

"They were already the twisted, Batman. You can't  _stop_   them from being twisted. Just like you can't _stop_ crime. You can only  _control_ it. This is what I'm doing now;  _controlling it,"_ he hissed, gesturing toward the henchman animatedly, causing them to flinch pathetically.  _What the hell? How did he come up with **that**? _ Tim furrowed his brow, intrigued and terrified all at once.

"Then you just become  _them_ ," Batman countered with a growl. "A criminal/ A  _murderer._ "

"Like being a fucking vigilante is any different? Techincally _that's_ a crime, and _you're_ a criminal!" Hood placed an indignant hand on his hip. Tim couldn't help but acknowledge that the man had a point. "Pick your poison, it all ends the same way. Justice is justice."

"This isn't  _justice-"_

 _"_ And who are you to decide what's justice and what's not?!" Hood roared in outrage. "It's not up to  _you_ ," he added, mimicking the Bat's very words from earlier.

"Exactly!" Batman exclaimed stonily. "It's not up to us, it's up to the people of Gotham."

"Oh, Batman," Hood laughed exasperatedly, shaking his head. "You ignorant little rodent. I _am_ Gotham," he threw his arms out wide as if to show himself off, like the conceited crime lord he was.

"Your perception is warped, you don't know what you're talking about," Batman shook his head vehemently. "You're a killer and a crook and you need to face justice just the same as them," he kicked one of the shaking men angrily. "I'm bringing you in too." 

Tim's heart was running cold now; Batman was going to bring in Red Hood? No...no, no  _no._ This would ruin  _everything._ Dick's plan, the hierarchy of the underworld, his relationship with Hood, his chance at survival...his last taste of freedom-...he couldn't let this happen. 

"I'd love to see you  _try_ ," he heard Hood taunt before suddenly there was a flurry of movement and he saw a blur of red and black exchanging blows. He had to stop this, he had to save Hood! Tim saw the three henchman crawling slowly away on all fours and silently cursed. The boss was dead, staring blankly up at the murky sky, having already bled out minutes ago and the three men were making a break for it. Tim didn't try to stop them; it didn't matter any more. All that mattered was a way to- was that a flash of silver he just saw? He crawled over to the corner and suddenly saw his saving grace; Hood's gun.

The three men were now at the mouth of the alley, pulling themselves up and bolting away. Tim didn't spare them a second thought; he stood up, aiming the gun at the two vigilantes and screamed as loud as he could"HEY!"

Immediately both men halted and turned to see him pointing the barrel readily at them.

" _Y-...you_ ," Batman whispered in disbelief. Tim furrowed his eyes in confusion for a second before he suddenly remembered; Batman knew who he really was.  _Oh, fuck_. No time for that now! He shook his head and discarded the fear before pulling the trigger once, twice, three times; each one landing with a painful  _thunk_ against what he knew was bulletproof armor on Batman's uniform. Bulletproof...but it still caused him to fall back and stagger full force into the alley wall.

"Come on!!" He shouted at Hood, waving him forward frantically. "Don't just stand there, we have to  _move_!"

Hood, who had been rooted to the spot, staring at him, suddenly shook his head and snapped out of it in time to race instantly after Tim. Batman, luckily, still had not had the time to stand up again and catch his breath, so they were off as fast as they could run into the night. At least until four blocks away when Hood yanked Tim by the arm down an unfamiliar street where-  _thank fuck_ \- there was his motorcycle waiting for them. Tim didn't hesitate at all this time, and in a matter of moments, they had escaped catastrophe in the blink of an eye.

Tim almost couldn't believe the luck; they just outran  _Batman._ Hell...he just  _shot_ Batman. Even worse...Batman knew Tim Drake was out and about and working with the Red Hood now, which probably meant that he had just fucked  _everything_ up. Talon wasn't going to be pleased. But...Tim shivered as he buried his face into Hood's back and tightened his arms around Hood's waist...at least he got them out of there. All he had to do now was pray that Hood didn't ask too many questions and try to figure a way out of this mess.

Yeah, right.


	8. A Compromising Position

The entire ride home had been spent in tense silence. Tim's mind raved uncontrollably as he tried to concoct some-  _any_ kind of explanation to Hood's inevitable questions. 

Why? Why now? Why did he have to reveal himself like that?! So what if they managed to escape? Now that Batman saw his face, he'd scour the city relentlessly in search of Tim. He'd...he'd blow Tim's cover with Hood, ruin the whole operation and if Talon didn't kill him for being such an idiot, he'd be dragged back kicking and screaming to his parents. Great. He had to go from already laying low to essentially just not existing at all. And if he didn't come up with something fast, Hood might actually make sure Tim no longer existed. Shit, what on earth had he gotten himself into? He might as well call it quits on this entire mission and run as fast and as far as he could.

At this point, he didn't know whether to be grateful that Hood showed up to stop those goons or not. If he hadn't, those goons would have taken advantage of him...and Batman (who probably only came because he heard Hood's gun shots) probably wouldn't have shown up to help either and if he did, Tim would be fucked anyway, figuratively speaking. What was he going to do?

...How did Hood find him anyway? The thought struck him from no where and all of a sudden his blood froze in his veins. He knew for a fact that Hood was supervising a trade earlier by the docks, so he couldn't have followed him. The only other logical solution was that he had placed a tracker on Tim somehow. Now that he thought about it, of course Hood would have some kind of location device on him, because Hood didn't trust anybody and so far he hadn't shown any signs of starting with Tim. Where was it? His clothes? His shoes? His  _brain_? Oh-...the answer came to him when he felt his phone buzz twice in his pocket. (He wasn't about to answer it; not right now with the wind whipping at them as they sped down the dark road. Even if he would have, his hands were shaky and numb clenched around Hood's waist and he wasn't about to move them.) Hood had used the GPS in his phone. So simple, so-  _duh_. Tim bit his lip and willed himself not to groan aloud in frustration. How long had this been going on? How often did Hood  _spy_ on him? Did he- he couldn't know what Tim was doing, he  _couldn't..._ Could he? Tim had been so careful, so cautious with his efforts and it turns out he, the spy, was the one who got spied on. If Hood knew, he'd...he'd kill Tim for sure. _  
_

But then why save him? He had to figure out what was going on. What was Hood thinking? What did he know?

Crap...how was he going to tell Talon about this? How was he going to reach Dick at _all_ if his phone was being monitored? He'd pop in on Dick in his hotel room if he didn't think Dick would probably attack him for showing up unannounced. That, and he couldn't put it past Hood to have someone tail him at this point. He  _had_ to talk to Hood to figure things out. He was teetering on the edge of a knife and at this point, every detail was crucial. If he made one wrong move or took one wrong step...it was all over, one way or another. _Talk about a compromising position,_ he thought to himself wryly. 

_Come on, think._

_Think._

_Think._

**_Think._ **

**..............................................................**

"You wanna start explaining or do I have to pull it out of you?"

"What?" Tim blinked, snapping his head up quickly. They had been back at the apartment for some time now -15 minutes, maybe?- and it had been even more silent that it was riding over here. At least on the motorcycle, the roar of the engine and the scream of the wind gave them a reason not to talk, but now the tension between them was obvious.

"What the hell do you think, Tim?" Hood retorted hotly, furrowing his brows seriously underneath his half-matted helmet hair. Tim winced and chewed on the inside of his lip. Now was the moment...it was do or die, literally.

"I-... where do you want me to start?" he replied hoarsely, trying to sound as meager as possible. Hood's face smoothed unread-ably as he leaned back and crossed his arms. For a split second, Tim couldn't help but contract sudden butterflies from the sheer intensity of the look, but he shivered and shook them away stubbornly.

"For starters," Hood murmured quietly, unrelenting. "You could tell me why you were at-..." he cut himself off, but only briefly. "...why you were across town." Tim snorted and shook his head with an unfooled half-smirk.

"I know you know where I went. I know you tracked me, Hood," Tim muttered in return, struggling to make eye contact, but succeeding in the end. Did he know every place Tim went that night? "Come on; you can say what you were going to say. Call me out," Tim dared, trying hard not to show how hard his stomach was churning.

Hood arched a brow, impressed and wary of his perceptiveness at the same time. "Fine. What the hell were you doing at Drake Manor?" Hood corrected haughtily.

The relief that washed over Tim was something equivalent to a baptism. Or drowning. Tim wasn't sure yet.  _He didn't know about Dick,_ Tim realized. He wasn't entirely revealed. Now he just had to talk out his ass and hope like hell that Hood believed him. "Oh," Tim blinked, swallowing softly. "Well... Mr. Drake used to be one of my clients," he spoke slowly, brain whirring wildly as the lie came together in his head.

" _Really_?" Hood interrupted in shock, trying to hide his dropped jaw. "How did- isn't he  _married_?"

"They had a rocky relationship," he shrugged, not meeting Hood's eye. "After their kid died, it didn't take them long to divorce." Lie. "Mr. Drake became terribly...depressed," Tim swallowed thickly. He almost wished it were true, but he knew his father didn't care that much. "I had people like him all the time... depressed and just looking for a good lay to distract them from their miserable lives... But he paid me well."

"Uh, yeah, I figured, since he's a fucking  _billionaire_ ," Hood snorted in amusement.

Tim stomach coiled in disgust, but his face was smooth as he continued his story. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, "since he was one of my regulars, he wasn't happy when I disappeared from the street," Tim explained. "He saw me walking today and then I told him that I was out of the business."

Hood nodded as the story -to Tim's amazement- began to make sense. "But for old time's sake, you let him have one more time?"

Tim's stomach lurched and he scrunched his nose, trying not to picture it in his head. "Er-..."

"You have a hickey on your neck, it's not hard to figure out," Hood smirked. 

Tim's eyes widened and he laughed in shock more than anything.  _Damn it, Dick_. "Y-yeah. I let him have one for...for old time's sake and then I recommended a friend of mine to him." Ugh, he'd have to puke at the thought later, but at least it saved his ass. And at least it made Hood smile -well, _snicker_ was a better adjective-. Was he out of trouble, then? Tim offered an awkward smile back.

"Okay, I can buy that. But what about  _Batman_?" Hood frowned, leaning forward. "He recognized you. Why?" His voice was almost harsh again, and Hood shook his head at himself. "I mean, he's not another client of yours, is he?" he added jokingly.

If Tim could have died right then and there, he would have. But he settled for choking and half-collapsing into a seat at the suggestion. "I- Jesus,  _no_ ," he sputtered in exasperation. Hood snorted and burst out laughing uncontrollably,  _shamelessly_ , even. In fact, when he saw the grimace on Tim's face, he started laughing even harder, making Tim turn redder than a tomato. "If you  _must_ know, Batman c-caught me in the act! A.. a couple of times," he blurted out, stuttering in embarassment. Well...he did  _once_...but not exactly in the act of  _prostitution_. But then he wasn't about to tell Hood that. Man, this was getting ridiculously easy. He kind of felt sick with guilt because of it, too. If only Hood knew. God he was so stupid...one minute he was scrambling to lie any way he could, and now all he wanted to do was stop lying so he could deserve that beautiful smile and intoxicating laugh. What the hell was wrong with him? He was an  _idiot_ , that's what.

"Seriously?" Hood arched a brow in amusement. Tim simply shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah. Told me I should probably stop doing it in public alleyways, otherwise he'd have to march me into the police station himself."

"Oh my god, he has a sense of humor," Hood chortled in amazement. Tim wanted to burst out laughing. Humor? Batman?  _Ha._

"Actually, he was dead serious. Kind of gave me the chills," Tim cracked a smile, unable to resist the temptation any longer.

"Well, alright," Hood grinned, making his green eyes sparkle in the lamp light. "You're alright, Timmy," he nodded slightly, crossing his arms and leaning forward. "Just...can I ask you one more thing?" 

Tim's stomach plummeted and he froze in terror. "Y-yes?" he tilted his head uncertainly.

"Why the hell don't you know how to fight? You were a call boy, you should have had  _some_ kind of self defense," he frowned insistently. 

Oh.  _Oh._ Thank god. "Uh...I had a can of maze once?" 

Hood blinked in disbelief before tsk-ing in disbelief. "Alright then, it's settled. I'm teaching you how to fight," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Wait... _what?_ " Tim's eyes popped in shock. Where the hell did he- when did he come up with  _this_? "You're going to teach me how to-"

"How to  _fight_ , yes," he nodded with a smug smile. "It's nice coming home to a clean house and I  _really_ hate doing all the paperwork."  _What?_ The confusion must have been painted like a big red sign on Tim's face, because Hood's smile faded slightly and he coughed. "Look, it's just... I like the convenience, okay?" Were Hood's cheeks pinkening ever so slightly? At Tim's silence, Hood coughed again and stammered on. "What...I mean to say is that...Ilikehavingyouaround," he muttered quietly.

"Come again?" Tim furrowed his brows, leaning in to see if he caught that correctly.

"I like... having you around," Hood finally audibly admitted. "And I don't want some other sleazeball to try and take you away again. So I want to, you know...train you a bit."

 _Oh_. Tim's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he smiled, flattered. "Hood, I-...thank you, I suppose," he chuckled. Hood hesitated at the gratitude and Tim frowned in worry.

"Don't mention it," Hood murmured back. Tim released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and nodded gently. After that, silence fell between them. Thankfully though, it was nowhere near as tense as it was in the beginning of the conversation.

"...Tim?" Hood asked hesitantly out of nowhere. 

"Yes?" Tim responded, arching a brow curiously.

"I've been...thinking," Hood bit his lip reluctantly. 

"Yes?" Tim urged, heart slamming with excitement and anticipation.

"About you," Hood clarified. Ok...Where was this going? "You've been loyal and reliable to the core since the moment we met. You've gone out of your way to cater to me and every stupid request I make and...lately... Well, I've started thinking of you as a... _friend_ ," he admitted sheepishly, almost wincing as he met Tim's eyes. Tim blinked in astonishment; he was finally, _finally_  making progress. Hood was starting to trust him. Was it weird that he suddenly felt light and giddy all over? And for fucks sake, it was unfair how alluring and ridiculously shy Hood was when he was nervous. "So I'm going to give you one and only one opportunity to get me back for digging into your personal shit."

Holy. Mother. Of Fuck. Tim couldn't help his jaw dropping this time. He was simply dumbfounded. Hood...Hood really trusted him. He was finally going to let Tim ask questions! Oh god, what was he supposed to ask for? He'd been so caught up in trying to get to this point, he didn't know what to do now that he was finally here.

"I- I, um..." Tim swallowed hard, trying not to sweat from the pressure and anticipation. Fuck, this was the last thing he ever expected. "You...you really want me to-" Hood nodded before he could even finish his sentence. "O-okay. Any questions I want?"

"Any at all. Better hurry before I change my mind," Hood warned half heartedly. 

Tim broke out into a smile and leaned toward Hood in deep contemplation. Should he dive right in to the important stuff or just...start off simple not to raise suspicion? 

"How old are you?" He finally decided on and blurted out.

Hood seemed surprised at the question but blinked it away and chuckled softly. "The most secretive, reserved man in the city is vulnerable at your mercy and all you can think to ask is how old I am," he muttered humorously. Tim shrugged with a happy smirk. "I'm 23."

Tim's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "That young?!" He hugged in blatant shock. 

Hood snorted and grinned."Sorry, we're you into more older guys, Mr. Barely-legal?"

Tim blushed madly and aimed a fierce swat at Hood's shoulder. "Shut up. No. It's just..." 23 seemed...too young. Too young to have clawed his way to the top of the underground food chain; too young to ensure such a dark life, too young to earn a place on god damn _Talon's_ hit list. Too young to _die_. Jesus... "I could have sworn you were older," Tim finally muttered.

"Don't sound so morbidly disappointed," Hood baked back, a little defensively.  "I may be young, but trust me, I've seen enough shit to age me ten years," he rolled his eyes. "There's a reason I made it to where I am."

"Oh yeah?" Tim raised a brow curiously. He almost didn't want to know, for both their sakes.

Hood's face suddenly darkened and he took a long, deep breath. "That...Is not a very pleasant story," he grimaced. "Do you really want to know?" 

Why the hell not? There was no turning back at this point. He nodded gravely to Hood and waited patiently

"Alright then," Hood sighed uncomfortably, shifting to lean slightly closer to Tim. "I was born to a dead beat dad and a junkie for a mother," he began slowly, eyes glazing as his mind traveled far away. "My father drank a lot and made a living selling smack under black mask. He was abusive and he beat the ever loving fuck out of me and my mom pretty much daily. Keep in mind we lived in the heart of Crime Alley; no one called the cops and no one told them anything even if they did come, so the only help I got was learning how to fight back."

"Jesus," Tim murmured under his breath with wide eyes.

"Of course the beatings got worse for me every time I did," he continued quietly. "But all I was concerned about was keeping my mom safe. I could take it. And when I finally got big enough to do real damage and managed to break his jaw, he went to the hospital and never bothered coming back. I think I was about 10 when that happened," he chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Anyway, since he left, that meant we had no money coming in and we lost our apartment. Mom took to the street and worked in bars, shitty little dinners and cleaning nasty little houses; anything she could to make money. We always moved between apartments and street squats and different community crack houses, which did nothing to help her drug addiction," Hood growled in quiet bitterness. "Eventually she started buying more drugs than she did food, and she pretty much just gave up on paying rent. Eventually, I found her dead on the floor with a needle sticking out of her arm," Hood recited wearily with heavy eyes. "I was on my own. I did everything I could to survive; strip cars and sell the parts, rob convenient stores, mug innocent _people_ and so much more... I was a little criminal, just like everyone else in this god forsaken city." Tim's stomach sank in horror. "And if it weren't for Batman, actually," Hood broke into a half smile, half smirk, "then I probably would have become just like my sorry ass, dead beat dad."

"W-... seriously? Batman inspired you to...To become a Crime Lord?!" Tim blinked in disbelief. That couldn't be, that didn't make sense! Batman was totally _against_  crime, he wouldn't encourage it. Tim would know.

"Not on purpose, I assure you," Hood laughed at Tim's expression. "Actually, as a kid, I always had this delusion that Batman might come and save me one day and make the cold and the hunger and the guilt go away. But when he never did...Well, I was already in a dark place, you can only imagine what was going through my head at the time," Hood explained with an almost sarcastic huff of laughter. "So when I saw his sweet ride just _sitting_  there one day by an old back alley theater-" Holy shit. Holy shit, h _oly shit!_   _That_ theater?! He didn't! "-I started stripping the wheels off one by one as some sort of revenge toward him," Hood chuckled. "I  had just finished the third one before he actually came back and caught me. Heh- he  _laughed_ at me if you can believe it." No, Tim really couldn't. He laughed at Hood? When Batman found Tim out, all he did was scowl and brood... honestly, he was kind of jealous of the older man. "And he made me put every one of them back on. He let me off with a warning...said I was 'quite a talented kid' and I should use it to  _help_ the city instead of harm it." Yeah, that sounded like classic Batman. "So that got me thinking... Batman had good intentions and really, I did feel guilty about robbing and hurting so many innocent people. I did want to do good, I did want to bring justice to the city; but the legal system is shit and everyone knows it. You can't just lock away and eliminate all this evil and all the filth that run through these streets, there's no possible way. So, I thought long and hard about it and eventually I decided that Batman had the right idea being a vigilante and all. But he got one thing wrong." Tim raised his brows in shock; Batman... _wrong_? "See, the only real way to help this city is to  _control_ the crime. Not to stop it," he explained intently. "He wants to rule them by _fear_ but what happens when he runs into those who aren't afraid? Like _me_?" Tim stared in awe at the logic of it; this man was either insane or a genius, and Tim wasn't really sure which. Either way, it was amazing and it kind of impressed him. A  _lot_.  "I never wanted to go darkside, but I know that living the life I did, like so many others, I could have easily become one of the ugly slimeballs who fell victim to it, one way or another. So all I had to to was work as a foot man in Black Mask's gang and learn the hierarchy and the how things worked. _That_ was the hard part; took my a good five or six years. After that, I put on a mask, killed a few dirt bags to earn respect and loyalty, demanded lower payments in exchange for protection, and stole Black Mask's clients. It was stupid easy," Hood clicked his tongue smugly. "I thought knocking the king of the underworld off his throne would be harder. But for the last three or four years, here I am. And guess what?" he grinned with a triumphant gleam.

"What?" Tim asked, genuinely curios.

"Crime rate's been dropping a steady 6% every year," Hood proclaimed proudly. "Batman is  _pissed_ at me for it," he added, snickering. "But that's only because he thinks I'm murdering everyone left and right. He doesn't know how the system really works; I haven't actually killed _anyone_ since the beginning. I've done things I'm not proud of, like make examples out of the Black Mask and get revenge on the few traitors here and there (Tim couldn't help but suppress a cold chill at this), but otherwise I'm just doing what I can to help this city. So what if they think I'm some kind of psychopath or criminal? Look what I've done for this place," he urged proudly. "That's all that matters."

Tim couldn't help but stretch a grin of his own across his face. This man...was incredible. Simply amazing. And  _hot_. That much knowledge, that much power, that much  _drive_ and  _passion_ with just the right amount of arrogance and leisure...it gave Tim shivers.

"You looked stunned. Does that answer your question?" Hood snarked while a sly smirk played at his lips. Tim simply nodded and cleared his throat with a shy smile full of new found respect. "Good. Anything else you want to know?" he offered, before reaching into his pocket and fishing out his squashed looking, half empty box of cigarettes.  _Oh no_. Tim's stomach fluttered; no, even after the first night, he still had the god damn fixation with Hood smoking. Every time Hood smoked, it was hard  _not_ to think about that night. It was even harder to come up with a reason that he hadn't tried to give a follow-up blow job. Or  _anything_. His job was supposed to be seduction, wasn't it? And sure, maybe he lied to Dick about how Hood performed in bed, but that was only to rile him up a bit (he wasn't stupid, he knew Dick got all hot and bothered about Red Hood). Truthfully, that blow job was the only thing he and Hood had ever done together. Right this second, though, watching the smoke blow through those perfect, tempting lips and the way his jaw clenched and the stubble ran down his chin- Tim shivered and tried not to imagine how it would feel against his cheek.  
  
 _"Hello,_ Earth to Tim!" Hood called out, waving the hand with the lit cigarette around in Tim's face. "You have any more questions or are you going to keep eye-fucking me?" Tim choked and mumbled an embarrassed apology as he quickly looked away. Hood arched a brow and giggled- yes,  _giggled_ \- at him. "I was only joking about the eye-fucking thing, I didn't know you were actually  _doing_ it," he grinned widely. Tim groaned in humiliation and covered his face. Hood laughed and knocked the spare ash from the cigarette into the ashtray. "

You know," he hummed thoughtfully all of a sudden. Tim jerked up to stare with wide eyes. "I wouldn't say  _no_ if you, um... really wanted to do anything," he admitted, scooting boldly closer. Tim's heart may or may not have hammered into overdrive at that precise second. "When I say I enjoy your company, I mean it... In more ways than one," he added softly, daring to brush his fingertips against Tim's. Tim fought to keep his breathing under control, but failed to stop his eyes from trailing down to Hood's lips and jawline and strong shoulders...Oh, god, if Hood wasn't saying no, then neither was Tim. Fuck it. 

Tim moaned when their mouths finally crashed together. Hood snaked his arms up Tim's back, intending on yanking Tim closer, but Tim willingly, if not _zestfully_ crawled into the man's lap and whimpered in bliss when their clothed groins pressed greedily together in the heat of the moment.

"Fuck, Hood, just take me, I'm yours," Tim shivered, whispering hungrily into the man's ear.

"Jason," Hood whispered a reply, mouthing against Tim's neck and hands wandering up his shirt needily.

"W-what?" Tim panted back breathlessly in confusion.

"My name," Hood explained softly, caressing the soft skin of Tim's back. "Jason...Jason Todd."

"Oh god," Tim whimpered before completely melting and fiercely attacking the man's lips. "Mm... _Jason."_


	9. Enlightenment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HELLO WELCOME BACK, anyway, I'm not actually going to leave a summary, you'll have to read to find out what's going on. BUT I would loooooooove for you to send me prompts for ficlets/one-shots for a Holiday Challenge!! Anything you guys want, just comment below and I'll write it and post it soon as a Holiday Treat. *kiss kiss*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Happy update day! And also happy holidays as well. In honor of the holidays, I'm going to be accepting prompt requests from all of YOU for short ficlets and one-shots. Send them to me in the comments, I'll jot a little something down for you and look for the completed versions in the Holiday Challenge series I'll be posting throughout the holidays. Thank you all, my darlings *muah*  
> ......................................................................................

Darkness; the soul of Gotham itself, usually cold and cruel this time of the year, except for tonight where it blanketed with pale, friendly moonlight against Tim and Jason's naked skin. The thin, worn sheets that Jason used for curtains billowed slightly with the brisk winter breeze that raised little goosebumps along Tim's arms and legs. Jason had been asleep for probably about 15 minutes. Only an hour and a half since Tim narrowly, _miraculously_ saved his own ass and then won Hood's- no... _Jason_ 's affection. Tim felt like he was floating, even though Jason's pale, strong arms held him firmly in place against his cozy, warm chest.

Jason had been...a  _phenomenal_ lover- Lover? Seriously? He was starting to sound like a fucking casonova or something. Regardless, Jason was...incredible. Tim even shivered slightly as the memory of every kiss and touch replayed like a film in his head. Jason himself had felt coarse and firm, but his fingers and his lips had pressed against him with something of a heartbreaking tenderness. Now, Jason wasn't a  _soft_ lover; he took what he wanted with an aggressiveness to rival a goddamn animal. But the way he had traced Tim's collar with his fingertips and trailed down his neck with his tongue only to bite affectionately at his shoulder... He was aggressive and dominant for certain, but Jason, especially compared to Dick's cold, show-off-y demeanor, was far more considerate of what his partner wanted in bed instead of just himself. Or maybe he just got off on pleasuring other people. Either way, Tim wasn't complaining. He could still feel the shower of kisses all along his torso and the gruff rub of Jason's fingers against his sides. Oh, and not to mention the delicious feel of his  _tongue_ against every naughty crevice (let it be known that as far as blow jobs go, Dick was far more talented, but Jason was far more... _thorough._ And then there was a rim job that Tim was totally not expecting that ended in actual sobs of pleasure). Jason's cock had been something else entirely; it felt even bigger than what Tim had remembered from the blow job he had given him forever ago and it had taken a good minute to get used to. But Jason had been patient, kissing his back without a word in wait before Tim finally adjusted and started purring and moving at his own leisure. All in all, Tim decided as he stared up at the white, shadowy ceiling, he could only sum it up as in-fucking- _credible._

Jason grunted and snored beside him all of a sudden, breaking him out of his thoughts, before the man tossed and rolled over on his other side only to fall back into his deep sleep and not stir again. Tim, for a moments, was at a loss from the sudden lack of warmth, but he shook it off and smiled fondly at the older man. He reached over to lightly stroke Jason's back with his thumb before stretching his arms above his head and then wiggling to roll out of the bed with a yawn. He gazed around the dark room sleepily before locating his boxers and stepping into them quietly and exiting the room to get a drink. 

The rest of the tiny apartment was just as dark as the bedroom was. For a moment, Tim almost feared that he would stub a toe against the coffee table on his way to the kitchenette, but he passed it without injury, thankfully. He placed a hand against the cool counter to help smoothly guide him to the refrigerator. He opened it only to blind himself momentarily with the bright light he had forgotten to take into account. He cursed under his breath, careful so not to wake up Jason, before finally his eyes adjusted and looked for something to quench his thirst. 

Beer, bottled water, more beer, milk,  _more_ beer- "Ah," Tim hummed, pleased when he finally spotted a bottle of green tea he had bought a few days ago. He shuffled the other bottles out of the way and pulled his prize out with a happy little grunt before closing the fridge, unscrewing the cap, and tipping it back into his mouth to drink from it greedily. He fumbled forward, blind again in the darkness, but never removing the bottle from his lips as he drank. He had reached the center of the living room when finally, things went wrong.

" _Did you think I wouldn't find you_?" 

Tim choked on his tea and stumbled right into the coffee table, ramming his shin painfully against the edge and dropping the rest of his drink to spill slowly onto the floor. His eyes watered with pain, but he didn't bother to think about it when his eyes finally adjusted to see the owner of the raspy voice he knew so well.

"B-Batman," Tim squeaked, terrified in return. 

Batman growled, silhouetted shoulders squaring firmly in the darkness. "I threw a tracker on your jacket when you turned your back," he explained at Tim's shocked expression. "After you  _shot_ me."

"I- I'm sorry," he swallowed thickly, trembling as he crossed his arms when he realized just how very exposed and mostly naked he was.  _I'm sorry? How lame could he be?_ "How- how did you get _in?_ "

"You left the bedroom window open," he growled back, taking a heavy step forward, causing Tim to shuffle back only to fall on the couch. Oh. The window....fucking _idiot_ he was.  Batman stepped forward again, only Tim couldn't back away this time. "I _knew_ you were still alive," he started, anger obviously boiling in his tone. "I had no doubt about that. What I was  _surprised to learn_ ," he emphasized icily, "Was that you've decided to  _make friends_ -" was that sarcasm in his voice? There was no way Batman missed a naked Jason and a mostly-naked Tim and couldn't connect the dots, "with the Red Hood. So I decided to do a little research,"  he continued with a hard voice as he loomed darkly over Tim. "You haven't been with him long, I've been tailing him for years and according to a few of his clients, you joined the picture almost two months ago." Correct. But Tim wasn't about to admit anything. "I started wondering why you came back and  _where_ you were hiding during those three years and apparently, according to a  _newspaper clip_ from two months ago, you escaped from  _Arkham Asylum_ ," he hissed, suddenly throwing a crumpled piece of paper at him and crossing his arms. Tim lifted the paper with something akin of a look of complete dread on his face. It was the small folded cut-out article, dated nearly 8 weeks ago. The front read:

 

 

" _ **Another Escape From Arkham!**  _ _Today alleged criminal Arthur Johnson_ (One of Tim's aliases, of course)  _escaped from Arkham Asylum at approximately 11:30 pm last night when an unknown visitor in a black suit slaughtered six guards and injured tthree more with Johnson at his side. The accomplice is unkown in name and origin and it is also unknown whether Johnson, former extortionist and known Info-dealer, blackmailed his helper, struck a deal or was simply kidnapped on scene. Johnson is approximately 5' 5", black hair, blue eyes and Gotham P.D. asks that anyone with information to please report the criminals whereabouts. Furthermore, the Warden of Arkham Asylum was reported to have- (cont. pg 6)"_

 

 

Tim finished reading with trembling hands as he unfolded it only to reveal a security camera photograph of him in his Arkham jumpsuit being led by the arm by- " _Dick_ ," he gasped quietly under his breath. There he was, clad in his black suit with his hair parted enough to reveal his lovely face and piercing eyes (though you couldn't quite see the vertical pupils through the shitty photograph, thank god).

"Is that his name?" Batman asked coolly above him. "Dick?"

"It's none of your business!" Tim hissed back defensively.

Batman frowned and Tim could swear he was narrowing his eyes underneath the cowl. "Actually it is," he retorted back, throwing another stack of photographs down- this time far more pixelated and much better quality than the Arkham photographs. These must be from Batman's own personal cameras. "These are from the docks earlier tonight," he stated as Tim moved to pick them up. 

Tim's first thought was that Red Hood probably shouldn't have chosen the docks for a business deal, since that was well-known Batman territory. But before he could voice that, his face paled as the subject of the pictures became clear. It wasn't Hood standing there between the two trucks; it was  _Dick_. There he was with his back facing the camera, dual swords in hand as the other men appeared to be laughing. The next picture was of Dick severing one man's hand and grabbing the next man over. Then there was blood on the crates and blasts from the guns and so, so many dead men, one right after the other. All of them...killed by Dick earlier that night. Damn it, what had he been thinking?! Was this because of the whole thing about his Past? More and more and more pictures of blood and bullets and Dick's bloodlust painted on his face until Tim almost couldn't take it. He was about to throw the pictures down when he noticed one that didn't include Dick murdering anyone. Actually, this was almost worse.

It depicted Dick and Jason standing not fifty feet from each other. Dick had that dangerous, flirty expression and Hood looked guarded and lethal. Oh god, did Dick try to kill him? Was Dick dead now?!

The next one, however, put that thought right out of Tim's head. It showed Dick whispering into Hood's ear and pressing his hand against Hood's chest. The one after that confirmed Tim's new fear and dropped a heavy weight in his stomach; Jason's Hood was off and he had Dick, naked from the waist down, pressed against an alley wall. They were-  _no_. Tim cast the photographs down with a cry of pain and disgust and threw his head into his hands. Both of his crazy psychopath lovers were  _fucking behind his back_?! But...they were trying to  _kill_ each other, what the hell was going on?! He knew Dick had the hots for the Red Hood, but he figured that he just got off on the thought of killing his targets. God, he really  _was_ twisted.

"I don't know what kind of triangle you three have going on," Batman crudely interrupted his thoughts. "And I don't know who this  _Dick_ character is. But you've lead me straight to the Red Hood." God, did he have to sound so smug? "They need to get off the streets," he growled, " _before_ they kill more people. And  _you_ need to go back home to your parents, Tim."

"Not on your life," Tim snapped back, baring his teeth and suddenly springing to his feet. "I'm  _never_ going back. They don't even miss me and I sure as hell don't miss them. And as far as these two," he gestured at the pictures in exasperation. "You let  _me_ deal with them."

"No. Tim, you're becoming as much of a criminal as  _they_ are," Batman argued angrily. "Be a runaway all you want, but you can't keep staying with them!"

"Watch me," Tim squared his shoulders, snatching the photographs as well as the article and ripping them all to shreds. "I know you have more somewhere, but I don't care. If you try  _anything,_ then I swear to god I won't hesitate to expose you... _Bruce_ ," he threatened lowly. Batman dropped his jaw, only to swiftly close it again and clench his teeth for several long minutes. They stared each other down, neither willing to give up and both at a stale mate either way. Finally, Batman sighed and slowly shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. I won't touch you. Just know that if I catch _them_ committing anymore crime, and I assure you, I'll be _looking_ , I _will_ take them in," he warned. Tim gulped and nodded in agreement. He'd in turn be ready to fight fire with fire. "And if you ever change your mind," Batman continued, reaching into one of the small compartments in his suit and pulling out a small black handheld with a button. "This is a homing device," he explained. "If- no,  _when_ you find yourself in too much trouble way over your head, press this and I'll come find you," he ordered. "These two are dangerous and your life is at stake, whether you want to accept it or not." Tim knew that already. 

"Thanks, I guess," Tim replied dully as Batman shoved the device into his hands.

"Don't destroy it or throw it away," he warned. "I know you probably have some sort of plan already; you're a smart kid-" did he just? "But keep it just in case. Please." Tim stood in awe, and it was his turn for his jaw to drop. Batman just...complimented him? And...pleaded with him? His only response to that was nodding dumbfoundedly. Batman nodded brusquely in return before straightening up and turning away. Tim suddenly shook his stupor away and jolted back to life.

"Hey, wait-" he called in confusion, reaching out his hand to stop the vigilante.

Batman turned back around silently and Tim forgot what it was he meant to say. Batman grunted and turned back around in frustration, heading back toward the open window in the bedroom. Tim. Before he left, he turned one more time to look back at Tim. "Tell  _no one_ ," he commanded in a whisper before disappearing through the bedroom door and out the window before Tim could move from the living room. Well...at least that was one thing he'd take to heart; if he told anyone, he'd be dead anyway. So silence it was, he decided as he squeezed the little black homing device in his hand.

So. Jason and Dick had fucked. Tim nearly got killed in an alleyway. Jason saved Tim. Tim shot Batman. Jason fucked Tim. Batman threatened Tim. Tim had to choose his next move carefully. Should he confront Dick about Jason? Should he tell Dick what he learned about Jason? Or about the alleyway and saving his own cover? Honestly, he was pissed at the assassin and didn't want to talk to him at all, and he felt the beginnings of a headache of a lifetime begin to pound inside his head.

He needed to sleep this off. He needed to clean this mess up, destroy the evidence of Batman's visit and climb into bed before Hood woke up and noticed Tim's absence. Then tomorrow while Jason was out, he'd start planning. _  
_

It was gonna be a long week until the next visit with Dick.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psssst don't forget to send me your ficlet/one-shot requests you want me to write for you for the Holiday Challenge! Just leave them here in the comments for me and I'll have them out soon. Lot's of love to you guys <3


	10. Patrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry that took so long, guys! Holidays and writer's block was harder deal with than I originally planned. anyway, happy update!! Enjoy *muah* :)
> 
> Also P.S. the request challenges are still in the works. They'll be posted shortly. and if anyone has any more requests, feel free to ask and I'll add them in. It's not too late!

Four nights later, after a rather long day of teaching Tim how to fight (or rather a simple tussle session on how to escape pin holds that ended up being a grope contest which turned into a much better form of recreation), he had set out at approximately half after nine that night and sailed across the rooftops of uptown Gotham for a slow, obligatory patrol. Originally, he was supposed to have an 11 o'clock firearm exchange downtown, but after the Talon incident at the docks, he had cancelled last minute. His client- some guy from Metropolis- had not been pleased at  _all._ In fact, two or three death threats may have been issued between the two of them, but in the end, Hood had the final say and almost withdraw his patronage completely -to which the man protested- and finally reached a sour agreement to postpone the delivery for two weeks.

Jeez, it's not like Hood  _wanted_ this to happen; it wasn't  _his_ fault he had the most unpredictable assassin _ever_  on his ass. Was Talon confusing the hell out of him and drawing this out on purpose? What the hell kind of antics is he dealing with? Truthfully, it was making his skin crawl. When was the bastard going to resurface and what the hell should he expect when he does? He didn't think he could take another six weeks of silence after that whole  _fuck-me-before-I-kill-you_ display.

What would Tim say? Jay stopped in his tracks on the dark street to think about that. 

Tim had actually been acting... _weird_ the last couple of days. Ever since that night in the alley, the night they slept together the first time... something was bugging him. Was it because of the bastards in the alley? Was it because of the sex between the two of them? Did that...change anything? Jason grimaced at the thought; maybe it was all just a terrible mistake. After all, Tim was still so new to this; so young and impressionable and...well, given his past, he couldn't say  _innocent_ , but... Ugh. Did Tim want more with Jason? Did he want less, given that he had  _just_ been attacked that night and he didn't want to be reminded of his previous job occupation as call-boy? Either thought made Jason wince, He could only guess what the hell was going on since he didn't dare ask, and he was the world's worst about imagining worst-case scenarios (To be fair, he _had_ to be; it's what's kept him alive so far, anyway). Whatever it was, Tim didn't smile as brightly anymore; in fact, he seemed rather tense and closed off, once soft humor morphed into sharp wit and once non-stop chattering turned to piercing, calculative silence. It made Jason anxious to say the least, but he didn't dare get involved; This was for Tim to sort out, whatever it was. He'd hear about it later if it was important. Hopefully.

Regardless of all of that, what would Tim say? At least before this whole mess anyway. He could imagine it now; Tim sitting on the small sofa, frowning in thought as Jason relayed everything to him.  _Well_ , he would start slowly,  _you could just kill him and get it over with?_ That would certainly put an end to the problem. 

 _Not necessarily_ , the Tim inside his head replied skeptically. He could just imagine him leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together deep in thought.  _It would put an end to Talon, but not to the price on your head._ Oh. Right, of course; whoever wanted him dead would send someone else. They might send someone even crazier next time, too. Tim inside his head nodded with a smirk. _You cou_ _ld interrogate him_ , he seemed to whisper as he leaned forward hungrily across the imaginary duplicate of their coffee table.  _You could catch him, tie him up and make him talk._ Oh but Tim doesn't understand how much harder that is done than said. Talon was slippery and sly as much as he was deadly. Catching him would be _more_ than difficult.

 _But I'd look so good in ropes._ And just like that, the face in his head wasn't Tim anymore. Talon leered at him from across the coffee table with a pleasant smile. Great.  _Admit it, you've been hot and bothered ever since you fucked me the first time._ He couldn't deny that; he growled in agitation into the night air. Luckily  he was on a roof where no one could see him or he'd be taken for mad.  _Imagine having your way with me again. Seducing me and then catching me just when I've let my guard down. I'll be absolutely powerless,_ Talon insisted alluringly. Jason shook his head defiantly.

Talon's not that stupid; seduction wasn't the most subtle art, he'd see through it in a heart beat. _But it would be fun, wouldn't it? No seduction needed, I'm already ready to go,_ Talon insisted again, daring to slide a hand on Jason's leg. It was just a hallucination inside his head, of course, but Jason shivered and jerked away anyway.  _Come on; we both want it. If you think you could come out with the upperhand, why not give it a try?_ Talon is formidable and he could take advantage of the situation just as easily; sex was their temporary truce last time and if it happened again, he couldn't expect that same courtesy. _  
_

 _What about me_? Suddenly Tim was back in the picture sitting beside him, pouting. What about him?  _Don't leave me out of the fun_ , he demanded jealously, sliding an imaginary hand up Jason's thigh. Talon too, followed his lead and crawled forward across the table into his lap. The great thing about this image is that suddenly all of them were naked and neither could keep their hands off of him. Talon was straddling his lap and Tim was pressed against his side in need. Tim was kissing along his neck and making way to nibble at his ear. Talon wasn't having that; he pulled Tim's attention away and stole Tim's mouth for his own in a sharp, greedy kiss before both turned to Jason and-

Oh man, this was so not the time for these thoughts, Jason shivered, twitching uncomfortably as a gust of cold wind ripped him back into reality. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his pants accordingly before he finally continued on. He really shouldn't fantasize about that shit. If Talon knew about Tim, he'd just use him to get to Jason. If Tim knew about  _Talon,_ well... he didn't know whether Tim expected fidelity or not, as they haven't exactly determined what their... _intimacy_ meant yet. But Jason was sure it wouldn't be positive.

 Seriously, though... what the hell was wrong with him? This love-hate triangle was going to be the death of him.

Jason sighed in resignation and shook his head. Despite the lunacy of the whole daydream, at least dream-Tim was on to something; He had to find Talon somehow and make this stop. But he had no  _leads,_ where was he supposed to  _start?_  

 _Wait_...Hood stopped dead in his tracks... Yes he did! Talon's dagger, he remembered, was carefully (or not so carefully) sheathed inside his boot. How could he forget about that? (He already knew the answer to that was _Tim_ , but he decided not to dwell on that too much.) It may not be much, but then again, it could be _everything_. He had a guy down at one of his many secret manufacturing laboratories, maybe he could take a look at it.

Immediately, Jason whipped out his cellphone and scrolled hastily through his contact directory until he finally laid eyes on the name he needed.

"Harper,"he barked, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

"What is it, Jay?" The voice on the other line yawned.

"Don't give me that yawning bull shit, I need your help," Jason demanded.

"Jason, it's  _late-_ "

"Like you've never stayed up until one in the morning before," Hood rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Please. It's important."

There was a lengthy hesitation before he heard a sigh of resignation on the other side.

"Awesome. Meet me at your lab in about 20 minutes."

...........................................................................

Roy Harper... he was an interesting case, and also one of the very scarce amount of people who knew Jason's name. He came to Gotham about a year ago, and Jason, much like he had with Tim, had taken Roy in. He was an average, maybe even slightly short at 5' 11", red head, lean muscle machine. It didn't take long for him to admit that he had come from Star City as a previous ward of the one and only Oliver Queen. Roy actually told Jason quite a few things about Mr. Queen and himself; Jason almost didn't believe him until Harper had revealed a hidden bow and quiver- but no arrows. 

He had also explained that he had fallen on hard times and looked to heroin ( _Hood's_ heroin, nonetheless) which is why Queen kicked him out and disowned him in the first place. Jason had told the man that it wasn't his fault or his problem. Harper had begged at his feet then, and all-be-damned, Jason had taken mercy on him. In exchange for one bag a week, Harper would put his weapon engineering and laboratory experience at the Red Hood's service.

Of course, three months later and Roy had finally cracked and sent himself to rehab; Jason had been his only visitor the whole time. Truth be told, Roy had impressed him. Roy had begged for Jason to let him keep his job, which Jason was more than willing to oblige, but also that the one bag a week be substituted for for a hundred dollars a week. Jason remembered now that he had just laughed. He told Roy that he could give him way better than that, and upped it one grand per week. Yeah, Roy Harper had impressed him. Now the man had his own uptown loft apartment and the two of them had become very good friends. 

"You wake me up at some ungodly hour, demand that I come meet you after closing time, and you're not even going to take your helmet off?" Roy arched a tired brow in disapproval as Hood finally strolled through the unlocked door.

Jason shrugged and disengaged the airlocks swiftly before yanking the damn thing off. "There," he shook his head, sending a few loose strands of his hair to hang down  into his face. "Happy?"

"You could at least say hi, sheesh," Harper rolled his eyes, but Jason could see the man's lips twitch in a smile. Jason grinned and they clasped each other's arms and embraced briefly before pulling apart.

"It's been way too long, dude," Roy scolded. "You owe me a lunch date for this, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Jason scoffed humorously. "We'll catch up later, I promise. But right now, I really need your help."

Roy arched a brow curiously. "What's ruffled your feathers so bad?" he only half-joked.

Hood grimaced and, even though he knew they were alone, turned to check and make sure, just in case. "I...may have another assassin on my tail."

" _Another_?" Roy frowned in exasperation.

"He's not just an ordinary hitman, though. I've never seen anyone like him," Jason explained hurriedly. "He only ever comes out at night, he's got these weird yellow eyes, he uses strategies I've never encountered before-"

"You're starting to make this sound like another lame vampire love story. You sure he's real?" Roy crossed his arms, unimpressed.

Jason growled indignantly before leaning down to yank the blade out of his boot and point it at the other man. "Woah, woah, okay, I'm sorry!" Roy widened his eyes in alarm, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"This was his," Hood murmured quietly as the white, fluorescent lights glimmered on the edge of the blade. "One of the best crafted knives I've ever seen, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well... _yeah_ ," Roy nodded, perplexed as he stared in observation. "The way it's made, it's not meant to just cut...it's meant to pierce  _deep_ and then  _shred._ It's a cruel cut, and it'll leave an awful, bloody mess," he murmured quietly. "What do you want me to do with it, exactly?" he looked up at Jay with a suspicious frown.

"I need you to dust for fingerprints and analyze any and all DNA evidence," he requested, turning the blade handle-first for Roy to take. 

Roy sighed, nodding as he accepted it. "Follow me, then," he instructed, turning abruptly to lead him down the hallway.

It was at that precise moment that Jason's cellphone decided to interrupt with a loud, piercing ringtone. Jay pulled the damn thing out was one of his club owners; a man by the name of Gavin O'Donnel who ran the Rainbow Haze LGBTQ+ bar. It sported a different theme everyday, from dark to fruity, from nerdy to retro to trendy, and always with the most insane group of people due to it's immense popularity in Gotham Underground. Nice place, really...except for the last time Gavin called, it was because a rival gang caused a hold up and took hostages, trying to bait Hood to show up and save them. Hood did, of course, and killed every last one of the fuckers. Regardless,though... Hood didn't fancy another scene like that playing out. He had worked to damn hard to rid the city of that shit.

Jason glanced at Roy who shrugged and gestured for him to pick it up. Jason sighed and clicked the small green answer button. _  
_

"Hood?" an uncertain, timid... male voice probably?... trembled over the line. It wasn't Gavin; what the hell?

"Speaking," he affirmed courtly.

"O-oh..."

"What _is_ it?" he urged maybe a tad bit impatiently.

"I, um... Gavin s-said not to c-call but..." the voice squeaked.

"Go on."

"M-my friend Samantha's been missing for two d-days," the boy gulped. "There's usually s-six of us working each night..."

"What's your point?" he demanded, furrowing his brow and losing his patience.

"I- my point is there's six of us working but there's no Samantha!" he panicked. "There's some freak with yellow eyes  _calling_ herself Samantha, but Gavin told me I was crazy!"

Hood froze and felt a chill seep into his spine. Roy tilted his head and mouthed What? but Hood ignored him. "Run that by me again?"

"There's this girl who says she's S-Samantha, but-"

"No, no, the part about the _eyes_ ," he pinched the bridge of his nose anxiously.

"I don't know, they're probably contacts or something,  _I don't know-_ "

" _Riley_!" the boy was interrupted by an angry, familiar voice. It was Gavin this time. "The hell are you doing, boy? You're keeping one of your customers waiting! Get back there, he wants a dance," he snapped. Hood heard one last pleading cry as the boy was torn off the phone, and then faded into the background.

"Who's this?" Gavin barked into the phone. "He ain't supposed to be making  _personal_ calls."

"Gavin, it's the Red Hood," Jason replied in a steely,unappreciative tone.

"Oh!" and just like clockwork, Gavin lowered his voice and humbled his tone. "Hood, I-...I'm sorry. What, uh...what did he tell you?"

"What do you have to hide?" Jason replied suspiciously.

"Nothing!" Gavin replied a bit too quickly. "Nothing, everything's fine here."

"So one of your girls going missing is  _fine_?" Hood challenged icily.

There was a stark silence before the man let out a slow, disgruntled sigh. "Oh, that," he started heavily. "Look, Samantha... she was killed last night. It showed it on the news this morning; throat sliced and blood all over the alley. Riley doesn't know, I just...don't have the heart to tell him," he explained.

"No, you really don't," Jason retorted coldly. "So tell me about the replacement girl you hired."

" _Her_?" Gavin sounded surprised at the request. "Birdie's her stage name. She told Riley she was Sam and had just undergone some surgery. Twisted gal, but... look, I was desperate, I swear I don't usually take in any old riffraff," he assured.

"Whatever," Hood muttered, unimpressed, waiting for Gavin to continue.

"A-Anyway, uh...real lean and pretty, and I think  _exotic_. Real dark hair, darkish skin, real bright, funny eyes, but  _boy_ she's hot. She does a tease piece in the back rooms. Want me to schedule you in so you can,uh...make her acquaintance?" he offered in that sleazy voice of his.

Hood had rolled his eyes and was about to snap something back, but suddenly bit his tongue to stop himself. "Actually...yeah. Please," he accepted quietly. Gavin said it was a  _she_ , but...something sounded off. She sounded exactly like another  _Talon_. Whatever the case, this was the easiest way to check it out.

"Wha- Really?" Gavin stuttered, taken aback. "O-okay! I'll book your room. When can we expect your, uh...arrival?"

"Immediately," Jason's eyes narrowed. "I'll use the back entrance; I don't want to be seen."

"S-sure thing, Hood," Gavin affirmed with a heavy sigh, making it clear that he hadn't actually intended for Hood to accept the offer. "You're in room number 3. It'll be ready when you-"

"Thanks, Gavin," he interrupted. "We'll be in touch again...this time I don't think I'll wait as long between visits," he warned before hanging up on the man. Oops. That was just as threatening as he intended it to be.

 "Problem?" Roy arched a brow in question.

"No...another lead," he replied, sliding his phone back into the inside jacket pocket. 

Roy hummed and shrugged. "Go on, then. I'll get back to you later after I run the tests," he assured.

Jason smiled gratefully and clasped a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Thanks man. I'll be back," he promised, before sliding his Hood back on and turning toward the door.

"You know you're the Red Hood and not the Terminator right?" Roy grinned. Jason scoffed and didn't dignify the bad joke with an answer, choosing instead to vanish out of sight. Even so, it made Roy crack up anyway.

.................................................

It was dark in the Rainbow Haze tonight. There were blacklights and glow-sticks and glowing shit everywhere. The techno music was so loud, it was hard to even try to think, which was probably the point. Body pressed against body everywhere anyone turned; the place was packed, as per usual, and everyone was either dancing, drinking, or making out. Occasionally it was all three at once, which was always an interesting sight. There were dancers on the platforms, two or three bartenders who were obviously tipsy and smiling like idiots, and boys, girls, and in-betweens everywhere of all shapes and sizes just getting their party on. One particular couple was actually  _getting_   _it on_  in the far corner, but everybody was too busy partying to pay them any mind.  


Jason hadn't been here in ages, especially in Red Hood garb. The last time he was here, he was in civvies, and he didn't remember anything after five really excellent mixed drinks. Gavin may be a scumbag on a good day, but Jason couldn't say he didn't run one hell of an establishment. But Jason wasn't here to party tonight. He stayed in the dark shadows as much as he could, slinking into the back hallway that led to the private rooms. There were no glowing LED lights or black lights here. Hell, even a regular light was far, few, and very dim in between. No matter; Jason found room 3 easily enough. Once he entered, it was completely dark except for several small lights at the foot of the stage which cast out just enough for Hood to locate the small, velvety couch in front of it. He sat down, heart pounding and hyper aware of every little sound in the deep silence; someone was shifting up on the stage, he could hear it in the soft whisper of footsteps.

Suddenly, the stage lights blazed to life and there on the stage, with her arm draped around the pole, posing sensually with her back to him was his dancer. She wore a small, sexy blue dress that showed off a rather _magnificent_ ass that was almost hidden by her long, dark hair. Hood furrowed his brows in perplexion, but continued to watch without a word as the music started and she slowly began to move. She started by sliding an elegant hand up her thigh and then hiked up her hair sensually, giving Hood a better view of her backside, which she began to rock to and fro very suggestively. Hood swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to clear his throat. 

She placed her hair lovingly, almost strategically over her shoulder right before grabbing the pole with both hands, shifting her legs and shimmying down and back up exotically. She hadn't even really started the show, and already Jason was mesmerized; glued to the sight of her, ignoring the sudden tightness of his jeans, and almost forgetting why he was here in the first place. If only he could see her  _face._

Slowly, she turned to the front, rolling her hips in a way that was almost intoxicating and  _still_ managing to turn her head and bend her arm up just enough to hide her face.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," Jason called out humorously, if only to try and hide his lustful longing. 

He could see her shake as if she was silently laughing, which made him feel kind of ridiculous. Of course... this was a tease show, this was the whole point. How must she feel that the _Red Hood_ was indulging and losing himself in her tease act? 

Apparently though, it didn't phase her much, as she pressed her back against the pole and twirled around (still with her arms infuriatingly hiding her face). Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat. That's when she suddenly pushed off the pole and took a step closer to him. Jason straightened up automatically and simply watched as she danced, swaying her hips and rubbing her hands up and down her slightly small, but gorgeous chest. And  _still_  managing to hide the better part of her face with the bangs of her hair. Closer and closer she came, and Jason's breathing became more and more shallow and erratic. She dropped to her hands and knees in front of him, so gracefully that it was unbearable, and she began to slide her hands up Jason's legs, spreading them so that she could slowly rise and make her way between them. She paid extra special attention to his inner thighs, making sure that she touched everywhere but his groin, which was throbbing at this point. And god, it was so  _sweet_ , this torture. Jason tried and failed to suppress a small moan as she rose up enough to straddle his lap and rock her hips teasingly over his. Jason tried so hard not to touch her,but she snatched his hands and placed them purposefully on the back of her thigh just short of her perfect ass. Somewhere in his mind, he was pretty sure this might have been against the rules, but the way she was swaying and the way she hid her face and that god-damn  _arrogant teasing_  demeanor was so fucking hot, so  _irresistible._ He stroked her legs longingly, daring enough to venture over and squeeze her perfect ass as he made his way up her back, caressing her shoulders and neck. Before she realized what he was doing, however, he finally managed to thread his fingers in her hair and, in one swift movement, tore the wig completely off her head.

She sat frozen on his lap for a good ten seconds before she- well, before  _he_ sighed and smirked softly. "This isn't happening quite the way I wanted it to," Talon pouted in complaint, though his yellow eyes glittered in thrill.

"You killed one of the dancers just to get me here...to give me a dance?" Hood recapped in disbelief.

"Now that's rude to go and make assumptions like that," he tsked, grinding their hips together purposefully. Jason tried hard not to moan and get distracted. "I didn't kill her, you know."

"Yeah. Right," Jason scoffed.

"Honest! That was just an unfortunate coincidence," he urged innocently. "Now, using her death to take her job at a club I knew you owned?  _That_ was all me," he hummed proudly. "I am kind of impressed, though; I thought it would take much longer to get here, I was prepared to wait for  _days_."

"And how were you planning on murdering me when you're unarmed and in a confining... _dress_ ," he cleared his throat, trying not to give away his unseen blush through his voice. 

"Oh,  _honey_ ," Talon laughed, suddenly reaching over and behind the couch to pull out his sword and press it against Jason's throat. "You must have missed these while you were stumbling in the dark," he hummed. "And for the record? I'm going to look so  _hot_ in this dress while I slit your throat."

Jason choked and tried to shove the man off, but Talon's grip on the couch with his hand and Jason's lap with his thighs was strong. "Now you listen to  _me_ , sweetie," he hummed smugly, sliding his hand down to snatch Hood's gun out of it's holster and point it up at Hood's chest. "If you move  _at all_ without my say so, I'll cut your throat. Got it?" Hood made an angry gurgling sound, but otherwise nodded his consent. "Good. Now I'm going to make you an offer and it's a one time deal," he instructed.

"I don't want to let this pretty dress go to waste. It'd be an awful shame." Jason was slightly ashamed with himself for privately agreeing. "So here's my offer; I'm going to ride you," he whispered softly. "Hard and fast. In exchange, I'll let you  _live_."

"That's one hell of an offer," Jason replied shakily, trying to to show just how hard that made him. "How long are you going to keep deciding to spare my life in exchange for a fuck?"

"Until I get bored," Talon mewled, smiling in triumph. "Or until it drives you insane, whichever comes first."

Jason scoffed lightly underneath the blade and fought the impulse to roll his eyes. "You've got interesting tactics for an assassin. I should have been dead  _weeks_ ago," Jason taunted. "Whoever hired you to kill me must be off their goddamn rocker."

"Honey, if I wanted you dead yet, you would be," Talon promised quietly. "You're alive because, for the moment, I want you to be. No other reason."

"You're one of those 'thrill of the chase' guys, huh?" Hood commented sarcastically. "Can't fuck me if I'm dead. At least you're not totally insane."

Talon rolled his bright eyes and snorted. "Still, though," Hood continued. "How does your employer feel about you keeping me alive for a cheap fuck?"

Something in Talon's face flickered, and he bared his teeth. "Oh, like you've never played with  _your_ food before. Besides, it's not always about speed of the kill; it's about  _efficiency_ and  _skill_. And honey, I've got you right where I want you," he replied smugly.

"I'm going to play with you and have my fun, of course. But at the same time, it's going to drive you  _mad_ trying to figure out when and where I'm actually going to do it. You'll drive yourself crazy when you find no leads to track me down or to pinpoint my strategy. You'll end up losing sleep and always looking over your shoulder until you're a paranoid  _mess_ and  _then_...then that's when I'll strike," Talon whispered excitedly. Jesus, he could feel the man's cock twitch eagerly against him.

"Your fate was sealed the moment I received your name, so don't you worry about what my employers think. I've never failed, and they know it," he hummed, rocking his hips, trying to distract Hood again.

"Right. Thanks for the info," Jason smirked, making Talon's jaw twitch in irritation. Otherwise though, Jason had to admit, Talon displayed a magnificent pokerface.

"Enough about me, do you want to fuck or not?" he urged shortly, pressing the flat of the blade more firmly against his neck to emphasize his impatience.

"Oh, I actually have a choice?" Jason sniped back. Talon's face again revealed nothing as he awaited an answer.

"Fine," Jason sighed, almost disappointed that Talon hadn't taken the bait. "The Hood stays on this time, though."

This time, it was Talon's turn to look disappointed, but only for a fraction of a second. "Fine," he agreed coolly. "It's not your face I need anyway, just your  _cock_."

"Alright, then," Hood grinned deviously underneath the mask. "Let's fuck."

......................

It didn't take long for the dress to go; Jason had ripped it off sometime after the best blowjob he had ever experienced in his  _life_. Say what you will about how insane and freaky the dude was, but Talon could give some serious head. He had almost come just from that, but thankfully Talon understood to pull off after nearly pulling a chunk of his hair out.

The best part though, in Jason's opinion, was that Talon had whispered into his ear not to worry about preparing him. Hood had only been confused for a second before he took the liberty of sinking down on his cock; only then did he realize the man had already prepared himself.  _Jesus_ , that was hot. Jason had paid extra close attention to jacking Talon off and massaging his balls while he rode him for that one. Talon had particularly enjoyed that. What really made him scream and scratch at his shoulders though, Hood had been surprised to figure out, was sneaking a hand up to rub and play with his nipples. It made Jason wish that he had actually taken his mask of so he could use his  _mouth_ ; oh, god, he could only imagine how delicious Talon's reaction would be  _then_. Too bad he forgot his domino this time, so he couldn't risk it. He'd have to remember next time, just in case Talon got horny some other night. 

Talon finally released with a loud gasp and a series of violent shudders; Jason was sure there'd be fingernail imprints on his shoulder from that. Just before Talon collapsed completely, though, Jason grabbed his hips and held him firmly in place (Talon was thankfully  _very_ cooperative in this respect) and took his turn, fucking his way up inside until he finally reached his own climax. This time, though, they didn't immediately put their clothes back on and leave. Jason's head was thrown back, resting on the back of the small couch (God,he was regretting this damn, stuffy helmet more and more every second) and Talon was still seated on top of him with his eyes closed and forehead pressed against Jason's sweaty shoulder, waiting to catch their breaths.

Some minutes passed, and finally after a small, urging tap against his hip from Hood, Talon lifted his head and used Jason's shoulders to help pull himself up and off. "Thanks for that," he breathed quietly, fingers lingering perhaps two seconds too long. For a moment, there was a look on Talon's flushed face that made Jason frown in confusion underneath his mask, but like most things with Talon, it was only fleeting.

"'S been fun," he added, all traces of softness gone from the lethal face. Except for maybe just a hint of orgasm intoxication that hadn't quite worn off. "If I don't kill you next time, we should do it again," he winked. "Hell, maybe I'll even wear the dress again." Hood honestly couldn't say he wouldn't agree to that. 

"If you could do me a favor and reach under the couch, my clothes are underneath it," he yawned. Hood nodded and obliged him absently. Talon retrieved his clothes and dressed quickly;  _fluidly_ , even, for someone who'd just been fucked senseless. Impressive; Impressive and slightly terrifying.

"See you around, Red," he blew a flirtatious kiss as he sheathed the sword and strutted away. Just as Talon was about to exit the door, Jason heard him laugh and turned just in time to see the man strap Jason's gun in his waistband. 

" _Bastard_ ," he swore exasperatedly. Talon grinned and winked one last time before disappearing into the darkness. 

Well...fair was fair, Jason decided with a sigh. At least he had  _way_ more at home. Still...  _Bastard_.

He started collecting the rest of his things mechanically when he felt the phone inside his jacket buzz insistently. He didn't bother to check the ID before answering with an indifferent " _What_?"

"Finally, jesus," Roy's voice sighed in relief over the line. "Been trying to call you like three or four times. Whatever's going on, stop. I've got some info."

"What's up?" Jason perked up in interest.

"The knife is similar, if not an exact model of the one owned by a man named  _Ra's al Ghul-_ I dunno if you know anything about him, but he-"

"He's the head of the League of Assassins," Jason nodded heavily.

"Exactly.  _Powerful_ man, don't want to mess with him-"

"I know, he sent his daughter to try and negotiate a deal with me once," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah. Thalia.  _Very_ hot lady who was  _very_ dangerous. Jason may or may not have slept with her...and then denied the business proposition from her father.

"Will you stop interrupting?" Roy snapped irritably. Jason mumbled a half hearted apology and urged him to continue.

"Right. There were a few fingerprints on the blade, but no matches in the database. I did find a hair sample that might interest you," he informed eagerly.

"There's chemical evidence in the DNA that suggests genetic mutation. Like,  _meta_ human mutation. There's a lot of similar anomalies as Superman; We're talking super strength, super sight and hearing and possibly a healing factor," Roy listed. "I mean, obviously there's no kryptonite shit here, but still. Whoever this guy is, he's major danger, Jay. I don't know what you did to piss of Ra's, but you should probably call him and beg for mercy like  _right now-"_

"Thank you, Roy, that's all I need," Jason interrupted in irritation. Fuck... the al Ghul situation was over a year ago and  _now_ he's all butt hurt? "Send the blade back to him and send my regards," he ordered grimly.

"Yes, your royal Majesty," Roy replied sarcastically. "Just... be careful man, alright? You'replaying a dangerous game and I don't want to see you get killed."

"Story of my life," Jason huffed in amusement. "Bye Roy. Thanks a lot." He didn't even give the man a chance to say anything else before he ended the call and shoved the phone back in his jacket sardonically. 

"Fuck..." What the hell had his life become?


	11. Sudden Death

 Victory. That was truly the one word that summed up the night for Dick Grayson. Talon's triumphant kill would come later, but for now Dick Grayson was still high on the adrenaline and post-coital bliss. It hadn't just been fun... playing cat and mouse with his marks was fun, but  _this-_ it made him feel  _alive_. Or at least that's what he was thinking to himself as he strolled back into his hotel room with a loopy grin.

How long had it been since he felt the true electricity of excitement in his veins? Or any emotion for that matter. Dick furrowed his brows thoughtfully trying to recall. The circus maybe? Yes...before his parents died, he remembered feeling something similar to this whenever he was flying through the air for the family trapeze act; his heart always pounded so hard in his chest and the cold air whipping through his hair was pure intoxication. He hummed softly at the thought and realized only after he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that he was smiling. 

"Oh...My..." He murmured quietly in shock, reaching up to touch his lips. How long had it been since he'd seen his hard, cruel face look that soft, that... _happy_? Even his eyes, so striking and cold, seemed somehow...softer. For a moment, just a fleeting moment he could almost see the humble, boyish face he knew from his circus days.

God, what was wrong with him? Was this Hood's doing? Or perhaps Tim's? Ever since that night when he admitted to Tim, he'd recalled things he'd tried so hard to block out and ventured into parts of his mind where he hasn't dared go in years. He felt so wild, so erratic, so...nice. 

 

Ugh, what the hell?! He's supposed to be a killer, not a touchy feely little- ugh. Sickness and anger at himself suddenly punched him hard in the gut. He was a killer...a _Talon_. What the hell was he doing fucking around like this? Even if he was still capable, he'd long lost the _right_ to feel anything or care about anything other than the mission. Stupid, stupid, /stupid/-

"Good evening, Talon," interrupted a sharp, but quiet voice from the darkness. Talon instantly jumped out of his skin and immediately snatched the gun he had stolen from Red Hood from out of his waistband. When he turned around, the intruder quickly turned on the light, causing Dick to squint in pain- damn sensitive, nocturnal eyes. The second his eyes failed him, he heard the sharp clang of metal and felt a small blade force the gun out of his hand and clatter loudly to the ground beside him.

"I'm rather surprised you did not sense me when you entered the room," the voice murmured, hushed. "We trained you better than that."

And just like that, Dick's stomach suddenly plunged and he fought the urge to vomit.

"Master," he choked, paralyzed before sinking to his knees in a forced bow. The Owl did not respond except by offering a small, unimpressed snort.

"Open your eyes, Talon," he commanded. "We need to talk."

Dick quickly steeled himself against the light, knowing well that the owl could offer greater pain than just that, and opened his ill adjusted eyes obediently. He couldn't see very well, but what he could see included included an exquisitely robed Court member wearing the traditional mask of the Owls.

"What have you been doing these last few months, pet?" the Owl asked softly. Dick fought off the impulse to cringe at the name.

"What I have been asked," Dick replied, bowing his head respectfully and somewhat fearfully. "Following the target."

"I believe your orders were to  _assassinate_ the target, not follow," the Owl retorted coolly. "My fellow peers and I were becoming quite concerned about you. Have you lost your nerve?" Dick couldn't help but shiver; he knew better than to believe that his  _concern_ was anything less than a threat.

"No, Master," Dick shook his head quickly. "Of course not. Red Hood was more skilled than you led me to believe, I had to take another course of action-"

"By using the boy?" the man interrupted with an audible sneer. Dick's breath caught in his chest; they knew about  _Tim_? Shit...of course they did. He closed his eyes in defeat, knowing what was about to come.

"Yes. Tim Drake is a spy I hired to collect intel on Hood."

"At what cost?" He retorted tonelessly. "And why is it taking him so long to give you what you need?"

"I-" Dick struggled, heart pounding erratically. "He wanted information," he finally admitted. The owl snarled and Dick whimpered quietly before continuing on.

 

"I didn't tell him anything about you or the Court, I swear. Just about the c-circus," he stuttered. "And so far he's been able to infiltrate Hood's network as his right hand man. I've been able to dismantle some of his operations, and-"

"If you're referring to that  _display_ you performed a few days ago, that hardly qualifies as dismantling  _anything_ except for our time and energy put into training you," the Owl snapped coldly. "You were sloppy! You caused unnecessary death and violence and you failed to kill your mark when you had the chance! In fact you  _fornicated_ with him," he shrieked. "Not just once, but  _twice_ after your little stunt tonight!"

Dick squeezed his eyes shut and shrunk back in fear. Of course he knew about the club. Of course...they had been following him. "I'm sorry, Master."

The man suddenly hissed and Dick didn't see him pull back his hand until after he felt the burning slap against his cheek.  "Sorry?  _Sorry?!_  Not only have you made a fool out of yourself and prolonged your single, solitary duty to the Court, you needlessly involved an innocent young man in your little game, you've fornicated and become  _infatuated_ with your target, and you willingly let him take one of your hard earned, sacred blades that he could trace back to us! And did you know that the boy was nearly compromised in an alleyway a few days ago?" Dick froze and looked up at his Master in shock.

"Yes, that's right. Some common street criminals cornered him. Red Hood interjected and nearly killed them before Batman showed up. _Batman_ ," he repeated in outrage. "Now,  _he's_ involved. All because  _you let this happen_!" Dick bit back bile in the back of his throat. Batman? What happened? How did they escape? God...how was he supposed to fix this now? He swallowed thickly, not daring to look up again at his master as he furiously tried to think of something-  _anything_. The Owl watched him in cold silence before scoffing and turning his back quietly.

"Leave the Batman untouched; he is under the protection of the League of Assassins," Master finally spoke. "But you  _are_  going to kill Red Hood," he commanded icily. " _And_ the boy." Dick looked up in alarm and tried to open his mouth and object, but he choked. "Don't try to protest, he's become too much of a liability," he snarled, quieting him once again. "You have three days to accomplish the task, then you are to report back to us for re-education," he added finally. 

"N-no!" Dick whimpered, now shaking in terror. "No,  _please_ , not again," he begged helplessly.

"The decision is _final_ ," the master spat back at him furiously. "No more fooling around and no more ridiculous waiting games. Fail us again, and you will be terminated _permenantly_ ," he promised in a cold whisper.

Dick slumped against the wall limply and nodded. "Yes, Master," he closed his eyes, whispering in defeat. When he didn't hear a reply, he opened his eyes once more to the harsh light and saw nothing. The Master Owl had already gone, and so had the last of the fleeting life the Red Hood had given him earlier. He was no longer Dick Grayson anymore; he was Talon once again.

.............................

Two days later, just shy of noon, Jason sat alone in his apartment, nestled quietly on his couch. He had just finished his morning cigarette and the last of the smoke billowed up lazily from the ashtray on the coffee table. 

Tim, after a tough sparring session (the boy was a fast learner and was getting remarkably good) had spent a good half hour with him just laying together and resting on the couch. It was odd how easy it was to relax with him and how effortless it was to kiss him when his head was nestled into his shoulder. They had kissed for a long time, even though neither of them had showered after the spar and both were still hot and sweaty. Actually, that had almost made it better. Just when things were starting to really heat up, Tim's cellphone had interrupted, buzzing incessantly in Tim's pocket.

Tim read whatever message he had received and had sighed sadly in annoyance. "Sorry, my friend Monica just broke up with her boyfriend," he had said. Jay had dismissed him really and urged him not to worry. It's not like he was going anywhere, he had reminded the boy. And with that, Tim had gone and left Jason to sit with himself and stare absently at the ceiling. 

Just as he was getting ready to enjoy a nap (since he hadn't slept yet due to patrol again last night), he heard three sharp knocks at the door. He groaned in irritation and closed his eyes in spite; maybe if he ignored it, whoever it was would leave. Exactly twenty two seconds had passed and Jason's eyes were starting to droop once again before the same three, loud knocks once again pierced the silence and forced him back into consciousness.

"Alright, alright, damn it, I'm coming," he griped, pulling himself off the couch unwillingly.

It was probably Roy, hopefully back with some more news about the dagger. Or maybe Tim had ordered him a pizza like the perfect thoughtful angel that he was. When he opened the door, though, neither Roy or a pizza man stood waiting for him. Actually, it wasn't a man at all.

"Thalia," Jason blinked in surprise, clenching his hand nervously on the door handle. Thalia, clad in her usual skin tight black get-up, smirked and smiled at him and flocked her long black hair carelessly over her shoulder.

 

"Hello, Jason," she replied readily. For a moment they just stood there staring at each other in silence. At least until Thalia coughed gently and asked, "May I come in?"

Jason, still stunned, reluctantly moved to the side and allowed her to breeze passed him into his apartment.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Jason asked when he found his voice again after he had closed the door. Thalia did not answer immediately, choosing instead to look around the apartment curiously.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, T," he urged gently, if not somewhat impatiently.

Thalia chuckled quietly and turned back to him with a humored expression. "Yes, but last time I was here, it looked a little less lived in. I noticed there are two sets of plates and two used glasses in the sink. Did you have a house guest?" She hummed.

Jason smirked and rolled his eyes. "Ever perceptive, aren't you?" He sighed. "My house guest isn't why you're here though, is it?" He added, trying to avoid exposing Tim, especially after he had not so vaguely sent a threat not three days ago. Suddenly, he was glad that Tim had left earlier.

"No, it's not," she shrugged nonchalantly, stepping forward and opening her black jacket and reaching inside to grab something. Jason was on his guard instantly and took a step back. Thalia tilted her head with a politely confused expression and laughed lightly.

"No need for that, now," she assured. "Just returning the parcel you sent us," she added before pulling out nothing other than the very dagger he had sent to her.

"Hey, you're the one who sent the damn assassin in the first place, technically _you_ started this first," Jason defended immediately.

"Neither I nor my people sent any kind of assassin for you," she suddenly snapped back icily. "The league promised you we would not harm you, even after you rudely rejected my father's proposal last year."

Jason scoffed shamelessly. "Look, I was flattered Ra's took an interest in me, but Gotham's _my_  city. I wasn't about to surrender it to him," he firmly explained.

Thalia rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "It was an alliance in exchange for your resources, Jason. But that's not the issue at hand," she stated pointedly, stabbing the blade into the heart of the dining table.

"Did you have to ruin my furniture?" Jason muttered grimly before taking a seat and crossing his arms. Thalia smiled innocently and shrugged before following Jason's lead and taking the seat opposite him.

"Fine. Let's talk. If that's not your father's dagger and you didn't send the assassin, who did?" He asked boldly.

" _That_...is complicated," Thalia bit her lip thoughfully. "You see the dagger  _is_ my father's, but the price on your head? That wasn't us," she explained. "The dagger belongs to an assassin called  _Talon_ -"

"I know that part," Jason interrupted impatiently. "He's been toying with me for two months now."

"Has he?" Thalia arched her brows in genuine surprise. "That's not like him at all. He's one of the most lethal, efficient assassins I've ever seen. He tried to kill my father-"

"Tried?" Jason smirked. "Doesn't seem all that lethal and efficient to me if he didn't succeed."

Thalia rolled her eyes patiently. "If you knew anything about Ra's al Ghul, then you'd know he's virtually immortal and near impossible to kill. Talon fought him and managed to impale him with those dual swords of his. Then he slit his throat, sheathed my fathers knife and disappeared," she narrowed her eyes ferociously. "His one mistake was not staying to make sure we were dead. Otherwise, from what I saw, I'd say his skills very probably outmatch anyone's in the League.

"You fought him?" Jason inquired in awe.

"Briefly," Thalia responded indifferently. "He broke my leg and stabbed me, but I am harder to kill than that," she leered proudly.

"Clearly," Jason whistled, impressed. "You weren't his target, though," he reminded pensively. "He probably wasn't trying to kill you. Either way, you and your father both must have some unbelievable medicine over there if you both managed to survive that."

"Ha! Something like that," she laughed. "Honestly, you wouldn't believe just how good our... _medicine_ really is. And to think we could have shared that with you if you hadn't turned us down."

"Enough already, sheesh. Even if I wanted to, I'm not the only one in charge of the city. Maybe you should try negotiating with Batman, see how well that goes over," he joked.

"We have," she replied, completely serious. 

Jason stopped dead in his tracks and blinked in shock. "Oh," was all he managed to say. Thalia hummed flatly before changing the subject.

"Anyway, about the assassin," she continued. "We've tried following him to learn more about him, but he covered his tracks well. We lost him back in Istanbul and now, thanks to you, we can monitor him again," she praised gratefully.

"You're just going to... _monitor_ him," Jason repeated in disbelief. "He tried to kill you and your father, T, don't you want revenge?"

Thalia smiled and chuckled softly. "Oh no, Jason. It's better that he believes we're dead."

"Unblievable," he muttered under his breath. "Awesome. No help from you then, gotcha. Anything else you wanna tell me?" he griped.

"You turned down the alliance, darling, I'm merely honoring that and keeping myself and my family safe," she reminded him politely. "And for the record? Next time you see him, if you want to survive... _kill_   _him_ ," she advised seriously before standing to her feet and heading towards the door.

"You can keep the dagger," she called back one last time. "Consider it a gift from the al Ghul's." And with that, Thalia al Ghul disappeared from his apartment and Jason was left back at square one.

There was no way he was going to get out of this alive, was there?

............................................

"Dick?" 

It was freezing outside, and Tim was wearing nothing but his usual jeans and t-shirt get-up, because he was an idiot. But thank god for Jason, who had insisted he take the leather jacket for warmth. He could still feel the ghost of his lips pressed against his and he could smell Jason all around him thanks to the jacket. It smelled of scented body soap and cigarette smoke and he had stopped trying not to inhale it as much as possible. Honestly, he'd much prefer being back at the apartment with the real Jason cuddled up and wrapped in big arms on the couch. But, unfortunately, duty called. Or texted, anyway.

Dick had sent him a very direct, almost angry message. _Meeting. Now._ it had said. To be honest, he'd been avoiding the man as much as possible and dreading the next visit, but he couldn't just ignore a direct order, especially if he valued his life and the life of Jason. He had to get out of this. He had to give Dick his resignation and convince him not to kill Jason. He saw a fragment of humanity when he got Dick's confession last week and he suspected the whole reason that Dick went and fucked Hood that same night was because something in him broke. That small sliver of cracked sanity was Tim's only hope. 

" _Dick_ ," he called again, rapping his fist against the door pointedly. "It's Tim. Let me in."

"I don't think you're the one who's supposed to be making demands," Dick's cold voice cut in from beside him, making him jump out of his skin.

"Dick!" he gasped before laughing in relief. "Jesus, you- you startled me. What's going on?" he asked in concern, suddenly furrowing his brows. "Why are you out in daylight?"

Dick in daylight was an odd sight; during the night he was smooth, collected, and aloof. Never a hair out of place. But now that the sun was shining on him, Tim noticed sunken eyes and dark circles underneath them. His hair was disheveled and messy and the expression on his face was blank... _lifeless_. And above all, he was fully clad in his black assassin uniform, swords sheathed and all. Only...there was something off. His clothes looked almost  _wet_ and his eyes...why did they look so broken?

"D...Dick?" he repeated softly, taking a step forward. Dick hissed and took a sharp step back. Tim threw his hands up apologetically and stepped backward in alarm.

"It's time you give me what I hired you for," he commanded briskly.

"I-" Tim stuttered in surprise. "I don't have anything new!" he lied, really starting to get worried now.

"Liar," Dick hissed, unsheathing one of his dual blades- oh god, there was  _blood_ on it- and pointing it at Tim. 

"Dick, p-please," he stuttered. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes. I do, Tim," he replied dully. "I don't have a choice. If you don't have anything useful, then you've just been a waste of my time and I'm going to kill you where you stand," he stated. It wasn't even a threat, Tim realized, fighting the urge to puke. It was just a matter of fact.

"Dick,  _please-_ "

" _Stop_ calling me that!" He suddenly shrieked in outrage, shoving the blade threateningly against his shoulder, just like the first time they met. "My name is  _Talon. Understand_?" Tim's breath caught in his throat and he felt something akin to sorrow swell in his chest. Something broke Dick. Badly. Was it him?

"Okay, okay," he swallowed thickly. "Talon...you don't have to do this. I want to  _help_ you," he pleaded. "Put the blades down, no one needs to  _die._ "

For a moment, the assassin stood frozen in place, staring intently at him until finally he could tell something clicked inside his head. " _You've been hiding information from me_?!" he snarled furiously, yanking him painfully by the hair, causing  Tim to yelp in pain, and forced him to look him dead in the piercing yellow eyes. "Tell me  _everything_ or instead of killing you, I'll make you wish you  _were_ dead."

Tim whimpered and struggled to no avail in Talon's iron grip. "I- I was compromised a few days ago," he choked. "Batman discovered me in an alleyway with Red Hood. They were fighting and I picked up Hood's gun and sh-shot Batman. I had to make up a c-cover story to keep his trust and then..."

"And then?" Talon arched a brow threateningly.

Tim gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. He was in trouble. "H-he told me everything."

"And?" Talon demanded impatiently. God, he couldn't betray Jason. He wouldn't sent him to his death, not after everything. He needed to get away, he needed to get back to Jason and to come clean before Talon killed him...killed them  _both._

"And..." he choked before seeing Jason's smile inside his head and holding on to that image with all his might. "I'm sorry, Dick," he whispered before ducking underneath the blade, elbowing Dick's stomach hard enough to send him stumbling back, and then sweeping his feet out from underneath him. Dick fell to the ground with a crash and Tim bolted as fast as he could to get down to the car that Jason had -thankfully- insisted that he take. He was almost there, just  _ten_ more feet, and then-

" _Oof_!" Fuck.

"He taught you some tricks, how _cute_ ," Dick hissed angrily in his ears. "But did you really think you could outrun me?" Talon snarled, crazed eyes devouring him like prey. "You're gonna regret that, Timmy, I promise you."

"No, please-  _HELP! HELP, PLEASE!_ " Tim cried out in desperation, hoping that someone in this godforsaken hotel would at  _least_ call the cops.

Dick slammed him into the ground and laughed hollowly. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, there's no one left alive to hear you!" he shrieked with psychotic glee, wrapping his hands around his throat. Tim clawed at the hand desperately, but no amount of thrashing or scratching or pleading was getting him out of this one.

"J-Jason-" Tim gurgled out as his vision began to fade. "J-Jason help...please..." he whispered before his vision went black.

Dick snorted whenever Tim fell limp underneath him. Little shit... at least now he had his ace in the hole, he thought to himself as he reached inside the pocket of Tim's jeans to pull out his cell phone. 

"You said his name was Jason, right kid?" he murmured to the limp body beside him as he scrolled through the contact list. "Well... _Jason_ , do I have a fun little surprise for  _you_."

.....................................

The phone in his pocket buzzed unexpectedly loudly, completely startling Jason out of his thoughts. He pulled it out and saw Tim's name on the message list and opened it up with a smile on his face. The smile was shortlived, however when he saw what it contained:

_Found your pet, love. Looks like he's in pretty rough shape. Come see me and we can doctor him up together ;)_

Underneath was the undeniable image of Tim lying unconscious or dead on the ground and Talon grinning wildly at him from above. That liar, that  _cheat,_ that- fuck. The phone buzzed again and another message popped up underneath the picture.

_We're at the Inn on 32nd street, btw. I'd hurry if I were you._

Jason snarled and threw the phone down in disgust. He had no choice now. Square one suddenly became sudden death and Tim's life was on the line. Someone was going to die tonight. This was going to end once and for all.


	12. Everything Falls to Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO DID YOU MISS ME???
> 
> Kidding. This kind-of double update is my treat for you guys. I know I kept you guys waiting too long last time, please forgive me :( 
> 
> Actually most of the time was spent working on the drafts for the prompt challenges but I ran out of time and they DELETED it *cries* 
> 
> And then I realized it was already MARCH and I just had to update for you guys. And lo and behold, after chapter 11 I COULDN'T STOP WRITING BECAUSE I'M AS INVESTED IN THIS AS YOU GUYS ARE and now this little beauty of chapter 12 is yours to enjoy. 
> 
> Anywho, I will now commence re writing the prompt challenges and posting those asap. 
> 
> Only a few more chapters of BoP left guys! Chapter 13 is in the works now and I hope you guys bear with me just a little bit longer.
> 
> Love you all! Stay awesome! And thank you thank you thank you for EVERYTHING *muah*

When Tim came to, he groaned softly opened his eyes to see a small gray, carpeted room with blank white walls and a solitary wooden desk in front of him. Tim himself was seated in a rather uncomfortable plastic chair, hands and feet bound tightly against it and his mouth duct taped shut.

Where was he? Back at Arkham? No...his vision was hazy, but he could make out a small golden name tag on the desk. He was probably still at the hotel in the manager's office. That raised two questions. Where was the hotel manager and..Where was Dick?

Unfortunately, both questions were answered when he glanced over to his right. There lay the manager beside him on the floor; a middle aged man partway bald, eyes still open and staring cold and lifeless in a pool of his own blood. Tim gagged, and looked away only to lay eyes on his captor.

Dick stood motionless in front of the corpse, still covered in dried blood from earlier. Just looking at him made Tim's throat burn and ache when he remembered that the Talon had nearly asphyxiated him earlier. Come to think of it, why wasn't he actually dead right now? 

Tim groaned as his head pounded. This was too hard...too much to process right now. Bile rise in the back of his throat and he had no energy to stop it. Thankfully, Talon seemed to realize it and ripped the duct tape off before it fully hit, allowing Tim to shamefully empty his stomach at the corpse's feet.

"M-monster," Tim wheezed weakly after he could finally draw another breath. He could hear Dick snort softly at him, as if to say What Else Did You Expect.

"Did you expect me to wait forever, Tim?" He replied quietly, yellow eyes glittering in the dim light. "My bosses gave me a deadline. They're tired of waiting and so am I," he added flatly.

"We- we had a bargain," Tim shifted weakly. "You said-"

"We agreed intel in exchange for intel. I upheld my end of the bargain," he snapped quietly. "You broke your promise and now I'm forced to take drastic measures."

"What kind of drastic measures?" He winced, as if choking him out hadn't been drastic enough.

Talon sneered and turned his face toward the plain wooden door. "Any minute now, Red Hood is going to come here to try and rescue you," he explained quietly. Heavily, even. Odd, for someone who was finally getting what he wanted.

"See, I sent dear _Jason_ a text and low and behold, one little picture was all it took to convince him. You played him well, love," he smiled hollowly.

"You played _me_ well, too," he retorted bitterly. 

"How do you figure that?" Dick asked lifelessly. 

Tim frowned and turned his face away in shame. "For a while there, I thought-...I don't know, that I was breaking through to you or something."

Dick tensed immediately before snorting and breaking into half hysterical laughter. "I'm...a _killer_ , sweetheart. There is no _b_ _reaking through_  to me. I'm a soulless monster, remember?"

Why did his voice sound so...hollow?

The lightbulb in Tim's head suddenly went off and finally he understood. And despite himself and the situation that he was in, it broke his heart."You weren't always a killer, Dick," he muttered softly. Dick stilled instantly. Tim couldn't even hear him breathe anymore. A ray of hope flickered in his chest and he took a deep breath before continuing on.

"You were a loving child once, weren't you? You were happy and you cared about people," still Dick made no sign that he was still alive. "You're not a soulless monster, Dick. It's not your _fault_. You were forced into this...by the Court of Owls-" and that was what did it. One mention of the Owls and suddenly Dick was at his throat with a blade and a snarl on his face.

"It doesn't matter who I used to be. The only thing that matters is the job. The Owls...they're all I have. _T_ _his_... _Talon_  is all I know how to be," he grimaced in disgust.

"That's not true!" Tim protested pleadingly. "You're fighting yourself, you have been for a _w_ _hile_ , Dick. You want better, you _deserve_  better. You can _be_ better, you can always change, just let me _help_  you," he begged, straining against his bindigs desperately. The blade against Tim's throat began to tremble in Dick's hand.

"Please," Tim continued, softer this time. "Please, let us help you." And just like that Dick's face steeled and once again became impenetrable.

"You can't," he whispered in resignation. "Even if you could, the Owls would find us and kill us both. Believe me when I say it's less painful for you this way," he muttered softly. "I'm...sorry. I told you what would happen from the beginning, didn't I?"

"Dick, I-" he choked before a sudden loud bang rang out through the air.

"TALON!" Jay's voice screamed in outrage.

Dick sighed and straightened up expressionlessly. "This will all be over soon," he promised before snatching his roll of duct tape from the ground and breaking another long strip off.

"No, Dick, wait, we can talk about this- _No_ \- Mmm-mph!" He cried out as Dick wrapped the tape around his mouth. 

Tim was completely helpless now as Talon moved to stand behind the chair and position his sword once again at his throat. They waited in silence as Jason's sounds of outrage grew steadily closer, until finally the door to the office flew open with a bang to reveal Jason in full Red Hood armor gripping a gun in one hand and a razor sharp dagger in the other. _Dick's_  dagger, Tim realized. How the hell- ?

"I'm only going to say this _once_ ," he hissed, pointing the barrel right at Dick's head. "Let. Him. Go."

"Nah," Dick grinned, threading his hands into Tim's hair and petting him just to piss Jason off. "I like him right where I've got him, actually."

Hood cocked the gun threateningly and stepped forward. "Last chance, asshole," he snarled. "This isn't a game this time, you _l_ _et him go_."

Dick's yellow eyes flashed and he yanked Tim's head back, exposing his throat and pressing the blade in just hard enough to draw blood. "I don't think I will, thanks," he mewled back cockily. Tim squirmed angrily in the man's grasp. He had to do something... _anything_. He had to stop this, he had to keep them from killing each other. Immediately, he did the only thing he could do; gnaw and bite and lick desperately to get the tape off. 

"What I _will_  do though...is offer you a proposition," Dick continued. "I'll spare your little _boy toy_ here if you take his place."

"What?" Hood recoiled, clearly confused. "Please tell me this isn't one of your demented sex schemes," he snapped viciously. "Because I'm definitely not in the mood."

"It's not, I assure you," Dick promised evenly. "What I'm saying is for you to trade your life for his. All you have to do is take your little mask off, stick the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger," he offered simply.

Tim interrupted by screaming desperately, muffled through the tape, and shaking his head. Jason can't- not for him, this is all his fault anyway. Jason doesn't deserve to die like this because of him.

"Shut up, you," Dick ordered, tightening the hand in his hair painfully tight in warning. "What's it gonna be, Red? I don't have all day," Dick taunted.

Jason lowered the gun hesitantly. Was he actually considering this?! Tim chewed at the tape furiously. Just a bit more and he could stop this.

"How do I know you're telling the truth," he whispered. Dick smirked lazily and ripped his eyes.

"He's not my target. _You_  are. What do I need to kill him for once you're dead?" He reasoned. Tim silently scoffed at the lie. If Hood actually /believed/ that-

"He's a witness," Jason listed hesitantly. "He knows about you." Oh, if he only knew how much.

"Ha!" Dick snorted, throwing his head back in empty amusement. "And who's going to believe him about a mercenary with yellow eyes? Not the  _police_ , that's for sure." Dick had a point...one that sounded completely valid to someone who didn't know better. Dick was lying to Jason and Tim knew it; even if Tim's life could be spared, to the police, he was an Arkham escapee. Or even worse, the Drake heir runaway. There was no way they'd believe him, even if he was just an innocent, sane bystander. Everyone inside the law was oblivious.

But wait...he didn't need someone inside the law.

  _"This is a homing device. If- no, **when** you find yourself in too much trouble way over your head, press this and I'll come find you."_

The little black handheld was nestled in his jacket pocket. If he could just get his arms free, he could maybe reach it and-

"Deal," Hood suddenly agreed solemnly. _What?_  Tim screeched behind the tape and violently shook his head, but there was no stopping Jason now as he disengaged the airlocks and yanked his helmet off. He heard Dick suck in a breath behind him.

"So that's what you look like," he hummed softly. "Green eyes...more beautiful than I had hoped." Jason scowled and dropped the hood down indignantly at that.

"You know...I really do hate killing you," he admitted softly. Tim wanted to roll his eyes; so Dick was in love with Hood. Fantastic. "I wish there was another way."

"Save your shit," Hood snapped irritably, visibly trembling now. "Just...cover his eyes, will you?" He asked, softening his voice. Dick hummed behind him and obliged, covering Tim's eyes with his hand.

Tim panicked now, chewing furiously through the duct tape before finally -yes!- one end tore painfully off his cheek. Tim jerked at it one final time to peel it the rest of the way off before spitting it out violently and screaming at last, tears running down his face " _Jason, no, he's lying!_ "

And just like that, the gun Jason had pressed against his own temple was torn away and pointed back at Dick in an instant. "What do you mean he's lying?!" He retorted to Tim in alarm.

"He's going to kill me after you die!" Tim choked. "Trust me, he  _t-told_ me!"

"Why?" Jason demanded, stepping forward and pointing the gun directly in Dick's face.

"Because, I- I've been-" but Dick cut him off by slamming the hilt of the sword into his head so hard that he not only rendered him unconscious, but he knocked Tim _and_  the chair over completely.

"Oopsie," Talon shrugged with a guilty smile. With that, Hood leaped over the desk in a single bound and the two began tearing at each other's throats.

......

Tim wasn't out nearly as long as last time. He woke up still tied to the chair and planted face first beside the manager's newly-decomposing corpse. Thankfully, it was much easier to ignore now that two fully grown men were _killing_ each other not five feet away.

 "Fuck," he groaned hazily. Now, not only was hit throat sore as hell, but his head felt like someone was hammering it from the inside. If he survived this, he was going to give Dick hell. Honestly, though, Dick would have to survive too for that to happen. And by the looks of things, when he finally managed to twist his head enough to see, it looked like Jason was beating the ever loving shit out of him. 

Dick was definitely on defense, anyway, furiously blocking and dodging a complete barrage of punches and kicks. Jason did manage a few good hits, but of course Talon hardly seemed effected by it at all. Hood didn't seem to be carrying the gun anymore -in fact, it was actually laying upside down (as if it had been forcibly disarmed sometime earlier) across the room. What really worried Tim, however, that Jason still possesed the blade. In fact, the moment he spotted it in his hands, Talon had stumbled over a leg of the desk, leaving himself open and Jason took his chance, attempting to plunge it into Talon's heart.

Tim gasped in horror, but thankfully Dick was quick enough to dodge the fatal blow. No one missed the yelp of pain when, in his attempt to dodge, the dagger had impaled his shoulder. Talon shoved Jason off and leaped back instantly, pressing his palm against the wound with a sharp hiss. He howled briefly in pain before suddenly moving to grip the blade handle and yank it out completely, all at once. Tim's stomach lurched at the sight, but he quickly dropped his jaw in shock at what he saw next.

"Gonna have to do better than that, lover boy," Dick sneered as the wound began repairing itself before their very eyes. Tim dropped his jaw in amazement at the sight; Dick had mentioned regenerative abilities, but... _damn_. This was _amazing_. Dick threw down the dagger in haste before launching himself back toward Jason. This time it was Dick on the offensive and Jason on defense. Talon was a furious blur of jabs and thrusts and Jason was forced to back up and throw his arms up to protect his torso. Jesus, these two were really going to kill each other... He had to get out of these damn ropes. He had to get to the homing device  _now._

Tim struggled blindly against his binds for all of ten seconds before he remembered that Talon had dropped the dagger only a few feet away. He zeroed in on it best he could and began inching the chair slowly forward to try and retrieve it. He was temporarily interrupted whenever a very distraught Jason tripped over his chair, causing Tim to squeak in shock and endure a slight pinch of pain. Dick wasn't far to follow, launching himself after Jason like some kind of animal. He was lucky that they were too preoccupied fighting to notice or hinder him any further. Now if he could just scoot one more inch- he was so close, his fingers were brushing ever so slightly against the handle of the blade, trying so hard to bring it closer. He stretched his fingers as far as they could possibly go and then-  _yes_ \- he pulled the handle into his grasp at last. It was still slick and warm with Dick's blood -god, he tried not to get sick at that- but otherwise he cut through the ropes easily and finally broke free of the god-awful chair one limb at a time.

"Tim!" Jason called to him, spotting him the moment he was free. "Tim, get out of here, now's your chance!" he urged desperately.

Tim shook his head stubbornly and clenched the dagger tightly in his hands. "No! I'm not leaving you," he retorted defiantly. "Please, stop fighting! We can fix this!" he pleaded.

Dick suddenly snapped his head up and growled, changing his whole course of direction and launching himself at Tim. Jason growled and jumped after him, catching him by the waist and crashing down to the ground to grapple and pin him forcefully.

"Jason,  _please_ ," Tim begged, taking a step forward. "There's something you need to know," he swallowed thickly, sinking to his knees. "He's not doing this of his own free will. He's little more than a  _slave!_ "

Jason scoffed and groaned in frustration as he worked to keep the thrashing Talon pinned. "So?" he panted. "He's still a  _murderer,_ Tim. He kidnapped you and he's trying to kill  _me_. Not to mention the countless bodies he's dropped  _today_ , not to mention the last two  _months_."

"He's unstable, I know, but he can't help it!" Tim objected pleadingly. "It's all he knows and he can't escape."

"Shut  _up_ , you  _wretch_ ," Dick screeched, face red and voice cracking desperately now. Dick was cracking, this just might work.

"And how the hell would you know? You've been his captive for what, a few hours?" Jason scoffed.

Ah...here comes the complicated part. "N-no," Tim stuttered fearfully, suddenly shrinking in on himself. "I know because...because I've been working with him for the last 8 weeks." And just like that, all movement between the two men stopped instantly. Dick closed his eyes tightly as if wishing to disappear. Jason's eyes popped and jaw dropped in shock and horror and Tim...well, all the guilt he'd been suppressing for weeks and the look of betrayal on Jason's face hit him all at once.

"I-...I was an inmate at Arkham. An information dealer," Tim choked, tears welling up in his eyes and he started to see the hate well up in Jason's. "Talon broke me out and...we made a deal that I would spy on you for him if he told me everything I wanted to know about him."

"You...you've... _lied_ to me...all this time?" Jason strangled out in disbelief, skin turning to ash.

"No!" Tim shook his head violently, pleading. "No, Jason, not...not about everything. Everything I did for you...everything we did together, that was  _real_ ," he urged desperately. "I never told him anything, I swear! Please, Jay," Tim whimpered. "I never wanted to hurt you. I came here today to beg for your  _life_ ," Tim sniffled, letting tears run down his face. Jason glared at him and did not say a word. The hate was obvious on his face and now Tim was sure that if Talon didn't kill him, then he was dead to the Red Hood for sure.

"I don't want either of you to die," Tim pleaded softly. "You can both hate me for the rest of your lives and you can even kill me if you want...just...you both deserve second chances." Dick opened his glowing eyes, still pinned underneath Hood, visibly swallowing thickly. For a moment, there was no other movements between the three until Tim sighed heavily in defeat.

"I guess now if...if I can't get you to see reason..." he trailed off thickly, casting his eyes away from the two precious men as he reached into his pocket. "Then I don't have any other choice. At-...at least he'll keep you alive." Both men furrowed their brows in confusion until Tim pulled out the black homing device and immediately clicked the small, red button. By the way their eyes popped in alarm, they obviously recognized the small spiked bat wings on either side of it.

"You've been working with  _Batman_?!" they both screeched in outrage, Talon pulling out of Jason's pin and Jason pulling himself to a stand with murder in his eyes.

"I- I'm sorry!" he panicked, dropping both the dagger and the device and falling to his knees. Dick and Jason both were on their feet now and looming over him with clenched fists. Tim squeezed his eyes shut and didn't bother trying to control the hysteria he felt coming on.

"How many betrayals are there, Tim?!" Jason screamed, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and yanking him up.

Tim whimpered and and threw his hands up in surrender, not bothering to fight.  _Batman, please hurry._ "I never wanted any of this to happen!" he trembled in fear. "I just wanted to hide away and make sure my parents never found me-"

"Your parents?" Jason scoffed in disbelief.

"Oh, yes. May as well tell you now that we're all coming clean," Dick murmured quietly. "His real name is Tim  _Drake_. And yes, it's the one you're thinking of," he affirmed with no other expression on his face except for passionate, gleaming eyes. At least it was better than emptiness.

" _Drake_?" Jason huffed in disbelief before adopting a disgusted scowl. " _You're_ the Drake kid?" he repeated again, wrapping his head around it. Tim gulped reluctantly and nodded.

"You were in  _Arkham_ just to escape your filthy rich parents, your life of  _privilege_ ," he snarled, suddenly slamming Tim against the wall and grasping against his throat angrily. Talon stood quietly behind him and watched with observant yellow eyes flickering.

"Y-you don't understand, you don't know what I-" Tim tried to explain before Jason slammed his back against the wall, cutting him off. Clearly, he wasn't looking for an explanation.

"No. I  _don't_ know. I  _never_ really knew you, did I?" he spat bitterly, making Tim choke.

Tim gasped for air as Hood slowly began tightening his grip, but refused to believe anything more than that this was what he deserved. "What are you waiting for, then, J-Jason?" he strangled out, when Hood didn't just cut off his breathing completely or snap his neck or something. "If  _you_ don't kill me,  _he_ will," Tim gestured at Dick, still lingering quietly behind them. "I have e-everything on b-both of you." Tears were streaming out of his eyes and he was trying so hard to keep his lower lip from trembling so badly. To hell with the lump in his throat, there was already a hand there nearly crushing it anyway.

Still...Jason hesitated, glaring at his face with every bit of anger and hate and...and then his eyes went soft. "I can't," he suddenly whispered, releasing his grip and letting Tim drop to the floor. "You deserve it, you lying  _traitor_ , but-..." his face contorted almost as if he were in pain.

"But you're not a murderer, Jason," Tim finished the sentence with a choked sob. "I know that. And neither is _he."_ Once again, Dick winced and grimaced reluctantly at him. "Why do you think I tried to save you? Why do you think I called Batman?" he asked firmly, pulling himself back up to his knees. 

When neither of the older men answered, Tim stood up and stared at both of them directly in their eyes, green and yellow alike. "Because no matter how much you hate me, no matter where he locks us up...he'll at least keep you alive." Suddenly Dick started laughing exasperatedly.

"You think  _he_ can keep me alive?" he snorted with wide, erratic eyes. "Batman can't stop what's coming for me. No matter where I go, no matter how deep and dark I hide, if I don't do this,  _they will kill me_ ," he hissed. Jason frowned almost in concern. _  
_

"In fact, thanks to  _you_ two, I'm already facing god knows how many more  _years_ of extra training down in that  _fucking_  hell hole!" he screamed, reaching both hands in his hair and clawing out his hair in insanity. Tim sucked in a shocked breath and blinked at the Talon in horror. Is that what was bothering him?

"It's not our fault you're a shitty assassin," Jason snapped coldly. "Maybe you should have applied for a better job."

"Jason!" Tim interjected defensively before Dick suddenly snapped and launched himself at the man in a loathing frenzy. In the blink of an eye, Talon had slammed Jason's head two, three,  _four_ times into the wall until he broke clean through the plaster and flung him across the room right into the wooden desk, smashing it to pieces with the first display of superhuman strength that Tim had seen. Dick was furious and Tim had never seen him like this; unstable, sadistic, erratic, cocky, even  _broken_ , but never the full extent of his rage. If looks could kill, the whole planet would be in flames, Tim thought to himself at Dick stalked over to a very disoriented Jason, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him down on his knees in front of his feet.

"I watched my parents die right in front of me before I was sold into slavery and  _tortured_ for ten  _years_ ," he hissed, leaning down and letting Jason receive the full, terrifying effect of Dick's murderous yellow eyes. "You don't know how long I've despised myself and how long I've wished that I  _could_ get out of this job," he growled, suddenly reaching underneath his shirt and pulling out-

"Oh, god,  _no_ ," Tim shrieked.

It was a sleek black gun. Not the one slumped over by the far wall, but it was definitely on of Jason's. Where Dick had gotten it, Tim didn't know. Tim didn't care to wonder about it right now to be honest, since Dick was now placing the barrel directly against Jason's forehead.

"But do you know how many times I've tried getting out? How many times I've killed myself only to be resurrected back into this same hell?" Dick snarled, clicking the safety off and cocking the gun readily. " _I can't die unless they decide I'm done_ ," he spat in rage. " _I can't leave,_   **ever.** I do what they ask and kill who they tell me to or it's eternal p-pain." Was his voice trembling? Was he- was he  _crying_? His eyes were glassy and wet, and the small stream of salt water winding down his cheek was beyond anyone's denial anymore.

"I don't want to kill you," he admitted forcefully, hand trembling just as much as his voice. "I don't want to kill Tim either. But I  _have_ to," he cried, suddenly clapping a hand over his mouth as he started weeping. Jason stared up at him, frozen, ashen and looking just as sick as Tim felt. Tim never told him about dying over and over again... about how he could never escape. Tim had never understood true despair until he looked at the face of a broken Talon...of Dick Grayson, trapped in his own hell on earth. And apparently, the same could be said of Jason. 

Jason simply nodded and closed his eyes solemnly. Oh god, he was going to let him do it. Tim choked and looked away. This was hell. At least he and Jason had a way of escaping it. Dick... he didn't fear dying anymore. He didn't even fear for Jason. He wept now only for Dick.

Any second now, he was going to pull that trigger. Any second now, another piece of Dick's soul would be shredded and he'd have to live with himself until the Owls disposed of him. Any second now, at least it would be over for him and Jason. Any second....

But the shot never came. Tim turned his head back to look just in time to see Dick lower his arm and then let the pistol slide right out of his hand and clatter to the floor. For a second, he just stood there, motionless, and Tim and Jason both stared at him breathless, not knowing how to react.

"Get out," Dick finally whispered as he fell back against the wall and slid down in a pile of misery. "Get out and run before they find you."

"Dick," Tim choked, reaching out for him before Dick flinched away, making Tim draw back anxiously.

"Get  _out_!" he screeched, banging his hand against the wall so hard that he put another hole in it. Jason and Tim both flinched and looked up at each other in utter confusion before finally, silently agreeing to honor the man's request. Just as they started to rise, however, there was a shadow in the doorway. Oh! Shit, Tim had nearly forgotten he'd called Batman! If he and Jason were quick enough maybe they could still fight their way out and-

"You _pathetic_ disappointment," the cold voice suddenly hissed.

Wait... _that_ wasn't Batman, Tim realized with cold terror. He saw Dick suddenly gasp and flatten himself against the wall, mortified. When he turned around, there was not just one, but _three_ dark figures in wispy robes and an ornately decorated masks...of  _Owls_. _  
_

"M-Masters," Dick whimpered, doubling over until his face touched the floor in a terrified bow. The Owl hissed and Tim and Jason both scrambled away as far as they could.

"You are  _weak,_ Talon," a different, higher pitched voice sniped venomously. "Hardly worthy of your name. A  _disgrace_ to all your predecessors!" Dick looked up, trembling from head to foot and nodded in shame. _  
_

"Masters, I am sorry. I am weak, I am unw-worthy," he sniffled through his tears. "I can never be a true T-Talon."

"We _know_ , Mister Grayson," the third voice chimed in grim agreement. "You've made that  _abundantly_ clear."

"Which is why you are being released," the second voice added flatly. Tim gasped in shock and turned to look at Dick, who seemed to be equally stunned. They were letting him  _go_?

"I- I'm free?" he choked in pure disbelief.

"Indeed," the first, cold voice affirmed tonelessly. 

"In fact," the second one continued, stepping forward with -oh no...was that a sneer he heard? "We've already found your replacement."

Dick's eyes widened in alarm and a noiseless cry came from his lips. "N-no, you  _can't-"_

" _Quiet,"_ the three Owls whispered in a chilling unison. Dick whimpered and closed his mouth immediately.

"There must always be a Talon," the first voice commanded boldly. "And we have carefully selected ours after many weeks of observation," he informed as the other two Owls swept in front of him and suddenly turned toward Tim. Tim's heart immediately stopped beating and it's like time and reality suddenly froze. 

" _No!"_ Dick and Jason both screamed. Before they could even move, however, a single Owl -the third one, perhaps?- zipped so fast between both of them and Tim heard two sickening cracks before his eyes caught up to him. Jason suddenly started screaming in pain and was gripping both his legs in agony. Tim's stomach plummeted when he realized that the Owl had broken both of his knees and was know on top of Dick, forcing his arms behind his back and holding his face hard against the ground, making him look toward Tim.

"Had it not been for you, we would never have discovered this gem," the first Owl hummed smugly. "We've been watching him for weeks, curious to see how your little espionage experiment would work. This one shows true potential; such a clever mind, so devoted and calculative, strong... and such a _wonderfully_ quick learner from what we observed of his training with the Red Hood-" Jason groaned in pain at the sound of his name, to which the Owls just snorted and ignored. "Breaking him is going to be so much easier than you were, Richard," he stated almost happily behind his mask. Tim whimpered and backed away in terror before the second Owl cornered him and loomed over him threateningly. He couldn't fight these men. He couldn't escape. His life was about to end and plunge straight into hell.

"Oh, don't mourn him, Richard," the first Owl tsk-ed when Dick started thrashing and pleading with him. "We're going to take such good  _care_ of him. And take comfort in this," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against Dick's ear. "We're going to make sure he's a better Talon than you  _ever_ were." And with that, the second Owl snatched Tim by the jacket and lifted him into the air with one hand. Tim grabbed it and clawed at it desperately, but to no avail.

"No! No, please, let me go!" he screamed, kicking and thrashing as Owl number One reached into his robe and extracted a thick wad of napkins and a small black bottle.

"No! No, Dick, Jason, help! HELP! PLEASE!" he sobbed frantically as Owl One popped the lid and doused the napkins in what had to be chloroform. 

"Hush now, child. Take a deep breath," he instructed, completely ignoring Tim's pleas as he forced Tim's wrist down and pressed the napkin over his mouth and nose.

" _TIM!_ No, STOP, TIM!" Dick pleaded desperately while Jason attempted to crawl towards them, even with his broken legs.Tim whipped to and fro, trying desperately to pull back or to hold his breath, but the firm hand against his mouth traveled with him and he couldn't hold his breath forever. After another minute or so of struggling, Tim's muffled screams started to fade, and his arms slowly became more and more heavy until at last, his head lolled to the side and his eyes came to a close.

"N-no, no, no ,no, no," Dick sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his face the other way while Owl One lifted an unconscious Tim almost tenderly into his arms.

"Relax, pets. He's in good hands now," he assured with an audible sneer. "And cheer up. At least your severance package will be quick," he offered as Owl Two swept silently out the door without looking back. "We'll even give you the choice of whether or not you want to got first, that way you don't have to watch your little friend die," he added humorously as he gestured toward a painfully spasm-ing Jason. With that he gave one final, cold laugh before following his fellow Owl out and leaving Dick and Jason alone with the third and last Owl.

Dick fell limp in defeat underneath his executioner and closed his eyes. "It's not really going to be quick...is it?" he murmured emotionlessly. He head the masked Owl sneer humorously in his ear.

"Is it ever?" Dick knew the answer to that question.

"Just get it over with," he whispered helplessly as Jason lay motionless on the ground beside him. Whether or not he was still conscious, he didn't know. Nor did it really matter, he supposed. The Owl would get to him soon enough.

Just as he heard the sharp metallic sound of the Owl unsheathing his blade, another sound fluttered in like music to his ears; the sound of a shuriken- no, a  _batarang_ whipping through the air and colliding with the Owl's own blade, knocking it right out of his hand. And there in the doorway stood the big bat himself.

"Batman," the Owl hissed, rising immediately to his feet.

"Step away from them.  _Now_ ," he ordered, stepping inside the room threateningly. The Owl audibly scowled and dove for his blade. And just like that, Batman threw another batarang, only these were trick-blades that opened and suddenly had the Owl's hands pinned against the wall. The Owl scowled and, unfortunately since Dick wasn't the only one with superhuman strength, broke free of them, taking another significant chunk out of the plaster. All at once, the two masked men launched at each other and started a battle of their own.

Dick, now that his arms were free again, immediately began crawling on his elbows and knees away from the Owl. He thought about making a run for it towards the door, but...he couldn't leave Jason lying there helpless on the ground. God damn it, he cursed himself. When did he become so soft? Slowly, he made his way toward the mass of leather and Kevlar that was the Red Hood. When he reached him, Jason suddenly turned around with a single finger pressed against his lips to signal Dick's silence. Dick blinked in shock and confusion before Jason pulled his arm around and revealed a gun- the same gun that Dick had pressed against his head and dropped not five minutes ago. Dick's eyes went wide as he cast his eyes over toward the Bat and the Owl, still furiously battling eachother.

Jason took aim (or tried to, anyway, since his hands were shaking and he was obviously still in pain) and cocked it readily. He took a breath, trying to steady the shot and wait for the perfect moment where the Owl's head was exposed. He had to kill this bastard, he only had one chance. If he missed, the Owl would immediately come for him and remove the gun and probably kill them both. If he happened to hit Batman, they were definitely all dead, since there was no other back up.

Dick placed his hand on Jason's firmly, helping to steady the gun and twisted around so Jason had a clear shot. 

Three.

Two.

One.

_Bang._

The Owl swayed and then stumbled over before falling dead on the floor right next to the manager's now-cold corpse. Batman had briefly frozen in shock before turning and stomping over towards them furiously. Still, both Dick  _and_ Jason fell exhausted to the floor; Batman held no fear over them after everything they had just been through.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he snapped. "You killed him! We needed him to tell us where they took Tim!"

They didn't ask how he knew and they were both too drained and grieved to care. "You don't have to," Dick whispered quietly, staring up at the ceiling. "I'll tell you everything."


	13. Cave of Negotiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guys I'm sorry it took two months. I was in the process of moving and didn't have internet for a few weeks! :( I have to admit I also had writer's block for a while too...I must have rewritten this chapter a dozen times! Ha lol. But anyway, here it is, I've already got the next chapter cooking ;) Happy update day, loves!

" _Does it hurt?_ "

Dick squinted his eyes open at the sound of Jason's voice. They were in hell's kitchen now. Or rather... the _Bat Cave_. Or at least Dick had assumed so; Batman wouldn't just sedate them and imprison them for any other old reason.

Yeah, that's right; Batman sedated them back at the hotel.  _We're not safe here_ , he had said, seconds after Dick agreed to tell him everything.  _I have a place, but neither of you can be consious on the way there._ Dick vaguely remembered asking him  _why_ , and Batman had answered without hesitation:  _Like I'm going to risk its location to bloodthirsty criminals like you? Don't think so._ _  
_

After Dick had woken up, he found he was trapped in some kind of homemade holding cell made of three blank walls and one wall of  _missile proof_ glass. Bullet proof glass, to his eyes, always looked somewhat thicker, almost like a transparent jelly. This glass however, or what he could see of it, was so thick that it almost looked like hardened, transparent rubber. Dick highly doubted that even his monster strength could put a dent in that; Batman must have some kind of experience with meta humans.

Even so, his hopeless confinement wasn't the worst part of this little cell; it was the blinding lights that emitted from -not the ceiling- but all three fucking  _walls_ all around him. The lights were built into them, meant to illuminate the whole room and everything that was in it. Almost like-...like a fucking _display_ room. To a normal human, they were simple, almost calming white lights, but to him? He had already spent most of his day galavanting around under the blazing sun, already damning his eyesight, but now? Hell... it was blinding and downright painful.

"Does it hurt?" Jason repeated again from the depths of the cave that Dick could barely see. "I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts like  _hell_."

"Bite me," Dick snapped irritably in the man's general direction. Of course it _hurt_...like _hell_. And not just his eyes, either; his shoulder was still throbbing from where Jason had literally run his own blade through it. And then of course the pain from the endless, soul crushing guilt after-...after _Tim._ But... the worst part? All this pain? He knew he deserved every agonizing second of it.

"This is all your fault," Jason growled menacingly from the darkness. "If you had just done your goddamn job and  _killed_ me when you were supposed to, none of this would have happened!"

"You didn't exactly make it an easy  _job_ ,  _Jason_ ," Dick hissed back threateningly. He couldn't see the expression on Jason's face at the use of his name, but he hoped it was scandalized.

"You're a shitty assassin," Jason barked back sourly. "And the dirtiest piece of scum on the face of the Earth. Who manipulates a  _kid_ into doing his dirty work?" Dick wrinkled his nose at the accusation and clenched his fists tightly from where they were positioned against his knees, curled against his chest. He didn't manipulate Tim; he told the kid  _exactly_ what he was getting into. And to be fair, that  _kid_ had also indulged in criminal activity before Dick found him in Arkham Asylum, so whatever.

"Who was manipulated by that  _kid_?" Dick challenged, blinking hard against the harsh lights. "Who fell for every sappy story that he spouted or every pouty lip he gave you?!" Dick barked back, finally moving from his curled up position in the corner to kneeling up and glaring angrily at the face he couldn't see. "You're a blind  _idiot_ , Hood. You're too soft! Hell, that's probably why the Owls wanted you killed in the first place!" _  
_

"I'm only human," Jason defended himself defiantly. "Which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for  _you_ , you mutant bastard!"

Dick's stomach plummeted to the floor and suddenly what little fire he had left in him had been extinguished. His knees finally buckled and he fell backwards lifelessly against the wall, staring into the floor as he accepted it; he really wasn't human. Hadn't been in years. He was just a pawn for the Court's game-... _No_. He wasn't even a  _pawn_  anymore, was he? He was just a miserable, mutated half-life with no purpose anymore, even if it _had_ been twisted before. He was a failure...he was  _alone_...and all by his own hand, too. Bile rose in his throat at the thought and he sunk down lifelessly until he was laying limp on the floor. He should have just let the Court kill him; even when he was being tormented and tortured in the dark, he'd never wished for death more in his life.

For the first time in years, Dick felt his eyes burn like fire as they filled with salt water. In a matter of seconds, the tears finally spilled over and started streaming down his face and over his nose to drip onto the cold floor. Dick choked before suddenly curling into himself pathetically and -finally- letting himself begin to sob.

"K-kill me," he choked softly, struggling to see past the blinding lights to wherever Jason was. "Kill me, p- _please_ ," he wailed in despair before sobbing so hard that he could no longer speak.

Jason -either too contempt or too shocked- did not yield him the mercy of a reply. Perhaps he deserved that. No, he definitely deserved it. Death was too easy a punishment for him after everything he had done; torturing and murdering dozens and hundreds of innocent people, using anyone and everyone he could, including Tim, and not only neglecting to feel bad about all of it, but _enjoying_ it at the time. Oh, and the worst part? Condemning Tim to a life of complete agony and darkness after he had shown Dick the only pity and compassion he'd seen in his  _life_... He deserved this hell; the pain in his eyes and the ache in his shoulder and the impossible weight of the _guilt_. He deserved it. He really, really did.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" a soft, unfamiliar voice interrupted gently. Dick jolted in alarm and squinted, trying valiantly to look out and determine who was speaking. But between the lights and the blurry tears fogging his vision, it was impossible.

"W-Who...?" Dick attempted to choke out defensively. He heard a loud scoff come from Jason before the gentle voice cut him off with a mild ' _Ahem'_.

"You can call me Alfred, sir," the man replied back earnestly. "I cleaned your wounds not two hours ago and I was  recently instructed to bring you food. Are you hungry?" Dick furrowed his brows in utter confusion. First of all, how could he possibly be hungry at a time like this? Second...why would Batman send some lackey - _polite_ lackey- to feed him in the first place? Kindness didn't seem fit at all in this situation.

"I- n-no," he stuttered back awkwardly.

"Oh, come off it, now; I slaved over these sandwiches for half an hour, I  _insist_ you eat at least one," the voice scolded firmly. Dick winced apologetically (how could this mystery man he'd never even met make him feel like such a child?) and hesitantly pulled himself up to a sitting position.

"Sorry, I- of course," he murmured softly in defeat. He blinked harshly and rubbed his eyes before looking up through the harsh the lights up at the invisible man.

"Oh, so sorry, those lights must be terribly bright for you," the man  _tsked_  disapprovingly. Dick opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even get a word out, suddenly the lights flickered out without even making a sound _._ Dick groaned loudly in relief at the unexpected mercy, and within seconds he was able to see the man who had shown him extraordinary kindness.

The man was stationed opposite him to one corner outside the display glass with one hand out of sight, probably holding the light switch, and the other filled with a small silver tray of sandwiches. He wore a stark black suit and an impeccable bow tie that neatly accentuated his sleek gray hair and black pencil mustache. He was...a  _butler_? Dick was now more confused than ever and had so many questions, but found himself speechless.

"I believe the words you're looking for are  _Thank You_ ," Alfred smirked gently as he flicked another switch that made the glass wall suddenly begin to ascend into the ceiling.

"Thank... you," Dick repeated absently as he watched the man step into the room with him. "Why would you- you know I could  _kill_ you right now and run for it?" he blurted out in awe.

Alfred stopped in his tracks and tilted his head with the most sympathetic smile Dick had ever seen. "Somehow, I highly doubt that-"

"Coming from a man who was just found wailing on the floor," Jason's voice lulled sarcastically. Dick looked up in shame -now that he was finally able to see outside of the cell- and found Jason strapped to a gurney with his legs in braces beside a set of massive super-computers. Dick's stomach hurled at the sight of him, and the guilt he was already drowning in suddenly lurched in his belly. As far as the computers and the _enormity_ of the cave- ...If he had any more emotional capacity at the moment, he'd really,  _really_ be impressed.

"Hush now, Mister Todd, now's not the time to be  _upsetting_ each other, there's far more pressing matters at hand,"  Alfred scolded, turning his head back toward Jason sternly. Jason snorted and crossed his arms angrily over his chest, which Alfred ignored and turned back to Dick.

"Now here," he continued, stepping forward brusquely to offer Dick the silver tray of -ham? That definitely smelled like ham- sandwiches. Dick looked uncertainly up at the butler, down at the tray and back up to Alfred again before reluctantly reaching out to grab one. He took a careful bite and chewed slowly before forcing himself to swallow and look back up at Alfred with a meek smile. 

"Thank you," he croaked out again, earnestly this time. 

"Not at all," Alfred waved dismissively.

 Dick took another bite before his stomach revolted in anger and lurched inside him. He swallowed thickly and fought the urge to grimace or vomit; the sandwich was delicious, for sure, but his body was clearly rejecting it. There were two other times in his life that eating had been this difficult; one was after he had refused to eat for a few weeks underneath the Owls in while he refused to comply. After he couldn't bear the agony any more, they had practically thrown him a feast with the most smug sneers he'd ever seen. He couldn't figure out why until, after stuffing his face as full and as fast as he could, his stomach was in even more pain than it was before. He had malnourished himself so much that he had lost an unhealthy amount of weight and could no longer physically tolerate a healthy amount of food anyhow. Never again did he starve himself willingly. The second occasion...well that was later in his training after he was forced to torture and murder his first victims. Dismemberment had always been the worst...he wouldn't be able to eat for days because he couldn't stop crying and throwing up. Those were the days they actually held him down and shoved feeding tubes down his throat...right before shoving him back into the Chamber of Blood and making him go through it all over again.

Dick suppressed a pained whine before lowering his sandwich in defeat. "I'm sorry, Alfred, I- I can't," Dick sighed heavily before setting the food back on the tray.

"Young sir, you need your strength-" Alfred began to protest in concern.

" _Let him be,_ Alfred." Dick flinched at the strict boom before looking up to find Batman had materialized silently beside his massive array of screens. He wasn't even  _looking_ at them...how long had he been there? Dick really couldn't say.

Alfred hesitated before finally nodding and straightening up. "Yes, sir. Time for  _your_ turn, then, Mister Todd," he stated, turning around to stride over where Jason was laying.

"About time, old man," Jason grumbled back irritably, shifting restlessly but never quite able to pull himself to a complete sitting position.

"Now, now, stop that. You'll only make it  _worse_ -"

"You're not about to feed me a damn sandwich like a  _baby_ , I'll do it myself!" Jason snapped, causing Alfred to stop short in shock. Batman, previously poring over some kind of report on the screens, suddenly clenched his hand and swept over toward Jason with a cold glare.

"Yell at him again...the man who saved your wretched life, the man I call my  _friend_ ," he snarled angrily, "and i'll re-break those kneecaps before you can  _blink_." Jason, though suddenly very pale underneath Batman's intimidating shadow, clenched his fists and teeth and held his ground...silently. As far as words go, he had none, apparently.

"That's what I thought," Batman muttered quietly before turning away and returning instantly to the computer files.

"That really wasn't necessary," Alfred scolded, rolling his eyes for extra measure at the vigilante. "I'm quite capable of handling myself against a crippled crime lord." Dick, however miserable he was, couldn't help his lips from twitching at that. Jason's face contorted -in anger? Humiliation? Or maybe just to try and hold back whatever venomous remark he had thought of- as Alfred gently set the tray on Jason's lap for him to dig into (which he did...aggressively).

"I'm well aware of your capability Alfred," Batman replied absently as page after page of words and pictures flashed over the screens. Dick almost did a double take whenever he saw a picture of himself on there. He was at the docks and all those men were bleeding down and around him. God the look on his own face was- completely ruthless. The half a sandwich in his stomach really did try to come up this time and Dick had to cover his mouth to keep it down. Batman kept clicking past the pictures and- Jesus, was that him and  _Jason_ behind the warehouse? Yeah, there was definite nudity; Dick with his pants lying limp around his ankles and Jason grabbing tight against his hips-. Dick squeaked in surprise before feeling his cheeks heat up in humiliation. Alfred glanced over at him curiously, but Batman paid no attention whatsoever. In fact, the man didn't even bat an eye at the image, he just kept going like some kind of machine. This guy was human, right? 

While the pictures flashed over the screen, Dick spared a glance at Jason who -due to his pink flushed cheeks- had also seen the picture. Jason's eyes met his briefly for just a second before he grimaced and forced himself to look away. Dick swallowed thickly and hung his head; it was agony, waiting here while Batman exposed them for everything they were and while Jason shot him death glares and Alfred with those ridiculously kind notions and ham sandwiches.

"What are you doing?" Dick finally managed to call out, breaking the unbearable, unnerving silence. 

Without stopping, or even looking up, Batman offered a dry reply "Updating your files and organizing the information."

"What?" Dick contorted his face in confusion. "But...I haven't even told you anything, I-"

"You didn't have to," Batman cut him off tonelessly. "Not yet. The analysis of your blood sample should be finished soon. Then, if I still have unanswered questions for you, we'll talk."

"Y-you-" he took a  _blood_ sample? Dick blinked rapidly in astonishment as he pulled himself up to stand. It must have been while he was sedated...God, he felt violated. But really, he should have expected something like this. 

"Yes," Batman nodded, still glued to the screen as he talked. "I sampled both of you. Now i have the Red Hood completely cataloged and and identified as _Jason Todd_ ; his underground network and activities can finally be brought to light, but later. Right now we have a much bigger problem," he exhaled sharply as the computer emitted a sharp  _beep beep_. He clicked over to a new tab and scanned through it silently. Dick sneaked a quick glance at Jason who, given the recent news, was glaring off to the side in fury. Dick's heart twinged inside his chest and a lump wedged itself painfully inside Dick's throat.

"Ah," Batman interrupted, causing Dick to jerk his head back up to attention. Batman pressed his hands firmly against the metal tables before standing up and turning around to face him.

"Haly's Circus," he stated, staring at him directly. Dick's breath caught in his throat and he choked; his wide, terror-stricken eyes must have given him away, because Batman hummed in acknowledgement to himself before carrying on. "While I was observing your movements on the surveillance tapes a few days ago, it occurred to me that the style looked slightly familiar...like an athlete or and  _acrobat_ to be specific." Dick closed his eyes and hung his head; how much did he know?

"Then whenever I cornered Tim the other day and showed him my evidence on you two, he let your name slip in fear;  _Dick_." Dick jerked his head up in shock, and he wasn't the only one; Jason snapped to attention like a hawk at the new information.

"I knew an acrobat named Dick once, or knew _of_  him...coincidentally from the same Haly's Circus, too," Batman continued quietly, making Dick (and Jason) lean in closer to hear his words.

"He was in a family act; The Flying _Graysons-_ " Dick whimpered as repressed memories once again began to stir inside his mind; the trapeze, the smell of straw and animal dung and delicious fried food, and flying through the air only to be caught in his mothers arms....and his mother and father both falling to their deaths before his eyes, silent at first with wide eyes - the same blue eyes he used to sport- staring up at him first in confusion then in absolute horror before the light was taken out of them forever, leaving only the sound of ringing screams resounding through his head.

"But the act was sabotaged," Batman insisted on softly, taking a step forward. Dick tensed and fought off every urge to turn away and run. "Sabotaged, leaving both parents dead and the sole son, Richard - _Dick_ - Grayson, orphaned and alone...only to be reported missing less than six months later. Is that when you sought them out?" he asked pointedly, taking another step forward.

Dick's stomach plummeted to floor and he contorted his face in disgust. "I didn't  _seek_ them, they-" he sucked in a breath before forcing himself to go on. 

"I was  _sold_. I was a  _slave_ , I didn't have a choice!"

"Oh  _lord_ ," Alfred interrupted, mortified. Both Dick and Batman ignored him as Batman loomed closer and taller than ever before.

"Why?" Batman pressed on urgently. "Who sold you?"

"Who the hell do you think?!" Dick blurted out, throwing his hands in the air half-hysterically. "I was left to Haly and his family had been doing business with the Court for years! It's the only reason the circus has been allowed to keep coming back to Gotham," Dick welled up, almost ready to break again.

 _You can't take the boy! Not him!_ Dick was shaking now as he recalled Haly standing beside him, barely able to see over his massive belly at the time. Haly clasped a big, beefy hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly- so very, very tightly.

_Please, I beg you-_

_Move aside, Haly!_ The man in the black suit had said. Dick, so confused at the time, cringed now that he had endured their intentions after that day.  _Move aside! He's perfectly ideal. The last thing you want to do is break our agreement, I assure you. Otherwise you'll meet his predecessor_ _._ Haly had been stricken silent after that...not that Dick could blame him. It was funny how betrayed and scared he had been at first; it didn't take very long to understand and finally forgive Haly for giving him up.

"Haly was a good man," Batman interjected crossly. "He would never knowingly sell children into slavery and torture." Dick wheezed out a quiet laugh at that.

"You knew Haly then?" he questioned tonelessly as he lifted his eyes to meet Batman's.

"I-" it was the first time he ever heard of Batman hesitating. "I was there that night," he revealed solemnly. Dick's eyes furrowed in obvious confusion. Before he could ask what he meant, though, Batman carried on in explanation.

"The night your parents died, I mean. I went investigating after it happened and I discovered who had done it," he began, making the heart in Dick's chest skip a beat.

"W-what?" Dick choked, stricken. "What?! Who!" he demanded in outrage. Batman shook his head and held up a hand for him to stop.

"If I told you his name, you'd hunt him down into his prison cell and cause further damage," Batman scolded firmly. 

"He killed my  _parents_ ," Dick hissed through clenched teeth as angry tears burned in his eyes. "He  _murdered_ them in cold blood right in front of my face! I want to know who he is, I want to know  _why-"_

"I know you do!" Batman thundered angrily, balling his gloved hands into fists. "Believe me, there's no one else on the planet who understands that better than me!"

Dick laughed hysterically at him now. He pulled himself to his feet and just...laughed. "You think  _you_ understand  _me_?" Dick challenged venomously. "Did  _you_ watch  _your_ parents get massacred before your very eyes? Did  _you_ -"

"YES!" Batman bursted in rage, causing Dick to freeze in his place and Alfred draw a hand over his mouth as he gasped.

"Yes...I did," he continued slowly, shaking rigidly as he slowly regained composure. "I watched them both take  _bullets_ because our mugger got  _impatient_. He shot them both and he was about to shoot me too, until he realized that I was just a helpless  _kid_. Then he just  _laughed_ and turned to run away," he finished with a steely frown. Dick swallowed thickly and tried very, very hard not to yell again when he replied.

"If that's true," he inhaled shakily, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again, "If you really understand... then you- you went after him, right?"

"Yes," Batman replied immediately, squaring his shoulders firmly. "I tracked him down years later and beat him within an inch of his life," he explained.

"Then why can't  _I_ -" Dick started before Batman shook his head and cut him off.

"Because  _you_ are planning on killing him," Batman accused sharply. That was  _correct_ , but...

"That still doesn't give you the right to deny me my justice, my...my  _revenge_ ," Dick retorted, almost pleading now. "Especially since you got yours."

"And it did  _nothing_ ," Batman replied, steeling himself in his stupid righteous dignity. "I could have killed him, I could have made him regret ever being  _born_ , but even when I had him terrified, beaten within an inch of his life, I felt-" he paused, contorting his lips in internal disgust.

"I felt  _nothing_. It didn't bring my parents back, it sure as hell didn't magically make me feel better and it didn't change anything," he informed them, resigning his face back to its unreadable, blank expression. 

"Revenge isn't  _justice_ ," he urged seriously, the words cutting through Dick like a knife, "and even if it were, we would become no better than  _them_. Let them face the people, let their actions be brought to light and let the public decide their fate." Dick released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. His heart felt like it was pumping ice cold water through his veins and his mind- well, it was throbbing with the new information, the...impossibly righteous ideals of the vigilante. This man, the  _Batman_...he really wasn't human. No human could hold this strongly, this  _passionately_ even to such moral justice. To be honest? It took Dick's breath right out of his chest in awe.

" _Tt,_ so that's why you never killed anybody?" Jason suddenly called out from his sick bed with the most unimpressed voice Dick had ever heard. All heads turned to him in surprise.  _  
_

"Boo hoo, both of your parents died. Boo hoo, our lives were terrible and we want _justice_! We want truth and fairness and unicorns that fart fucking rainbows!" he mocked maliciously. 

"Well sorry to burst your bubbles, you little freaks, but life doesn't work that way!" he snarled, yanking himself to sit higher up against his pillows. "You want to punish them, you want justice, I get that. But the people you're trying to punish aren't going to learn!" he snapped viciously.

"Let the punishment fit the  _crime_ , I say," he continued, crossing his arms defiantly. "And eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth and all that. You watched your parents die? Take his life as penance. You were tortured by some freaky cult as a  _child_? Torture them back before putting them down like the animals they are!"

"Jason,  _no_ ," Batman interceded before Dick could say a word. Dick shook his head as both men's points started to jumble in his head.

"God, will you ever understand?" Batman rubbed his temples as if to soothe a headache. "We're just single units! You're just one man, you don't get to decide the fate of other people! Not only are you turning into a criminal yourself that way, you're playing god!"

Jason laughed at this and Dick watched on with furrowed brows and scrambled thoughts. "How many times have we been over this?" Jason jabbed, annoyed. "God has nothing to do with this, we as  _people_ need to protect ourselves and each other. Sure there are some nasty politics involved, above and underground, but ultimately everyone, as a whole and as individuals, is only trying to obtain what they believe is the greater good. Even the fucking Court of Owls," he explained with his face contorted in contempt. Dick snorted at that and frowned in obvious disagreement.

"In an ideal world, sure, maybe the court system could or would take care of matters like this, but you  _know_ how corrupt they are out there; every bit as a blood thirsty crime lord or an outlaw _vigilante_ ," he jabbed purposefully at Batman. _  
_

"Since our world  _isn't_ ideal, since crime can  _never_ be stopped, I'm doing my damnedest to  _control_ it. It's a necessary evil for what society taught me to interpret as the greater good. And  _don't_ give me that crap about letting the  _people_ sort it out when, _again_ , you are a  _vigilante!_ "

Batman shook his head and growled angrily. "We're supposed to  _strive_ for an ideal world. That's how we progress, how we  _improve_ as a whole!" he insisted. Dick groaned, letting his head fall into his hands; this was really starting to give him a headache. Just as Jason had opened his mouth to argue back, Dick groaned and shouted to break them up.

"Hey! That's  _enough_ you two! Neither of you are ever going to agree so just  _shut up_ already!" Both men turned to stare at him, but thankfully-  _mercifully-_ closed their lips.

"Thank you, sir, you said that just a moment before I was about to," Alfred chimed in tiredly, taking a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiping off his sweating forehead.

"Mm," Dick hummed absently in response. "You should go get some rest...you look like you've had a long day."

"Not until the Master sends me away, thank you," Alfred replied politely.

"Alfred," Batman frowned in concern. "I hate to say it, but he's right. Please go upstairs, I'll be fine," he insisted. Alfred stared back at him sourly before sighing and lifting the silver tray -now empty, courtesy of Jason- up from where he had set it on Jason's gurney.

"Of course, sir. Should I bother cooking dinner or will you return late?" he asked, nose still wrinkled in distaste.

"I'll call you and let you know later," Batman promised dismissively. Alfred rolled his eyes and with a swift acknowledgement and farewell, Alfred disappeared into an elevator that Dick had not seen before. After the old man was gone, Dick turned to Jason stiffly.

"By the way," he addressed coolly, "The Court of Owls don't want any greater good crap. You almost had me until you started with that. All  _they_ want is to control the city because of their elitist bullshit. Some of them want the whole world." Jason narrowed his eyes into a scowl and was about to retort before Batman cut him off.

"Noted. Elitist agenda? Are they politicians?" he inquired documentatively.

"And lawyers and CEOs and all that jazz," he shrugged. Funny how easily he was able to tell now; with Tim, he had lied about not knowing who they were or what they wanted. With Batman, now that he was free...it was so easy.

"And where do you fit in?" he continued, puzzled. "Why would an elitist court pluck a circus boy to become their Talon?" Dick arched a brow and almost laughed at the pure naivety of the question.

"Because I'm a natural athlete, obviously," he smirked, feeling the first ghost of himself come back since before everything went to shit. "Dick Grayson was a child  _acrobat_  with years of physical training behind him; a natural selection for someone designed to be quick, stealthy and accurate. In fact...I think most of the Talons were the product of Haly's," he mused quietly in thought. 

"The one before me, the one who trained me was anyway," he added with a shrug. 

Batman frowned suddenly and crossed his arms. "So it's not the Court that trained you, it was the old Talon?"

Dick bit his lip hesitantly. "Sort of... like me whenever they, um...discovered T-...Tim," his eyes fell in sudden shame, "they killed her. It's a ceremonial thing; a right of retirement. She became one of their drones- they've got  _dozens_ ," he explained. "The Owl that tried to kill us back at the hotel was one of the undead, actually; the other two were just members of the Court."

"These wackos have  _undead soldiers_?" Jason hissed in mortification. Dick nodded squeamishly. 

"I-...I would have become one as well if it weren't for Batman," he admitted earnestly, casting his eyes to the floor.

"And what about Tim?" Batman cut in urgently. Immediately Dick stiffened up and winced at the thought.

"He'll be trained underneath the Talons, just like I was," Dick sighed in defeat. "I never saw it coming, I always thought they looked to Haly for-"

"Oh, stop it," Jason snapped irritably. "No one wants to see your self pity show; he's brilliant and you know it. He fooled everyone in this room at least once-" no one missed the bitterness in his tone at that, "-and they were right; he is a fast learner. I was training him how to fight. It was only a few days or so, but...he was a fast learner. He was good." Dick groaned and closed his eyes  tightly in regret. He should have known. He should have at least  _suspected_.

"Maybe  _Drake_ will be happy where he's at when they finally unleash all that potential. Maybe they'll beat some fucking  _loyalty_ into him too," Jason growled poisonously. _  
_

"No!" Dick popped his eyes open wide with horror. " _No!_ Jason, that place is a  _nightmare_ , they're going to torture him and mutate him and literally tear him apart! No matter what he did to us, he doesn't deserve  _that!_ " Jason's glared at Dick the entire time he had spoken, but as soon as he made his point, Jason's eyes softened in shame.

"He had good intentions," Batman chimed in quietly, causing Dick and Jason both to jerk their heads over at him in attention.

"He cared about you both, from what I gathered from him, even after he found out about you two-" Dick and Jason grimaced, sneaking a side glance at each other in embarrassment. Batman paid no attention to that.

"He was trying to save you, for whatever that's worth. Both of you. I can't understand  _why_ or what on earth is going on between the three of you, but... you want to explain that one?" he attempted briefly.

"Not a chance, Bats," Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes. Dick smiled and shook his head almost fondly at his defiance. It was noble, almost, it really was. But Dick gave his word.

"I failed at killing Jason, hired Tim to spy on him and...er,  _seduce_ him if nothing else worked, that way I'd at least have a  _weakness_ on him, and then-" Dick informed, blushing slightly.

" _Hey_ ," Jason complained sourly, shooting him a piercing look. Dick winced.

"I became...infatuated with Jason. And I sort of...lived vicariously through Tim and taught him everything he knew about seduction-"

"You mean you had sex with him?" Batman paraphrased tonelessly. 

"You had  _sex_ with him?" Jason dropped his jaw indignantly. Dick fought the urge to run far away and hide in that moment.

"Well, yeah," Dick admitted. "But to be fair, Tim had sex with Jason and then Jason had sex with me. Repeatedly. All of us, with e _ach other_ ," Dick emphasized not-so-discreetly towards Jason.

"Oh my God, that explains so much," Jason sighed in relief all of a sudden. Dick and Batman tilted their heads in confusion.

"He was at Drake manor one night and while he was walking home- well, that's when you and I ran into each other," he nodded towards Batman. "But he told me that Old Man Drake was an old client of his-" Batman frowned in confusion only for a second before he understood -Thank God they all understood cover stories, other wise it would have been very awkward to explain- "but now I see he was just checking on his folks."

Something in Batman's face softened and he nodded. "I knew he still cared."

"What-...?" Dick and Jason asked, simultaneously puzzled.

"Nothing. Once we get him back, you can ask  _him_ ," Batman replied firmly to Jason and Dick's disappointment.

"You mean  _if_ we get him back," Dick suddenly sighed in gloom. "There's no way we can infiltrate the base, especially since we escaped the Talon they sent to kill us. They'll have the whole place on maximum security."

"Can't you get us their?" Batman inquired sharply. "Can't you navigate through it?"

"Well, yeah, but... they'll have every trap ready and every undead Talon they can spare; they'll be  _expecting_ us," Dick protested.

"Do you really want to wait until they're off red alert? How long do you think that will take, as cautious and patient as they are? And how long do you want Tim to suffer?" Jason pointed out solemnly. Dick grimaced at that.

"I- I understand your point, but...he'll suffer far longer and far worse if we  _don't_ wait; they'll slaughter us in our current state. I mean, no offense Red, but you're kind of useless without your legs and it'll take every man we've got if we want to do this. And it'll give us a few advantages; 1. They may not know of our involvement with Batman. If they think it was just me and Jason, they'll think I ran for the hills and that Jason wouldn't know how to find them even if he did stay in Gotham. 2. They'll lower their guard and hopefully put all the Talons back to sleep. 3. It'll give me enough time to think up a strategy and for you two to call any friends you happen to have. Got me?" he asked, arching his brow.

"You want us to involve everyone under the sun with the most dangerous cult in the country?" Jason scoffed in disbelief.

"No, stupid," Dick snapped impatiently. "I want anyone who's close by who doesn't have anything to lose and is  _good_. And by good, obviously I mean highly  _skilled_."

"Why nothing to lose?" Batman interrupted cautiously.

"Because, if the Court knows who they are, if we fail," Dick's eyes darkened grimly. "Not only will they kill whoever's involved, but they'll murder their entire family." Both Jason and Batman frowned heavily in understanding. "If there's no one, then fine. We'll wait even longer until Jason heals completely-"

"Don't," both Jason and Batman denied fervently.

"I have someone I can call," Batman insisted quietly.

"So do I," Jason added. "Maybe two actually."

"Fantastic," Dick nodded, taking a long, deep breath. "Then we start in three days. There's only one other problem."

"What's that?" Batman hummed almost amused at this point.

"If we succeed, if we get Tim back and somehow destroy the Court of Owls -trust me, it has to be done one way or another if we want to  _stay_ alive- then I refuse to be locked away in some prison. You know I'll find a way to escape," he threatened Batman darkly. "I go free. And...so does Jason." He owed the Hood that much, at least.

"I don't think so," Batman stiffened aggressively.

"Hey now, I only ever killed because I  _had_ to. I was brainwashed and unstable. I'm still unstable, but...at least now that I'm free, I can heal. I'll get help," he promised diligently. "Real help that doesn't require a uniform or a cell door. And as for the Red Hood? You know who he is now, you could topple his empire and ruin everything for him. He has no choice but to leave, it's over either way."

"Nice going, asshole," Jason griped under his breath, which Dick ignored. Batman, however, bowed his head in consideration.

"One condition," he finally agreed, looking back up to them.

"What?" the two boys implored seriously, leaning in close.

"Leave Tim with me," he ordered threateningly. "And never, ever return to Gotham City under  _any_ circumstances."

" _What_?" Jason protested in shock. "Leave  _Gotham_?!"

"That's  _two_ conditions," Dick pointed out sourly.

"You heard me. What's it gonna be?" Batman demanded challengingly. Dick sighed heavily and Jason growled indignantly and jerked his gaze away from the both of them.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dick inferred quietly. "So then we both agree. It's a deal." Jason didn't speak up, thankfully, so Batman nodded and the deal was done. And for a moment, all was quiet around them except for the faint sound of wings -bats? Ha. It really was the Bat Cave- fluttering far above their heads.

"Go on, then," Dick suddenly broke out. "Whoever you were going to call? I suggest you do it now. We have a lot to explain."

"Done," Jason replied instantly. "I sent the text seconds after you suggested it. Roy's already accepted, I haven't heard back from-"

"Talia," Batman's voice suddenly pierced through the air. Jason's eyes widened in surprise as both of them turned to look at the vigilante. He was holding a dark black phone next to his ear and speaking into the receiver.

"Talia, it's me. Are you still in town?"

"No fucking way," Jason sputtered. Batman ignored him and walked on into the darkness of the cave.


	14. Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

_It's cold_.

Tim shivered frigidly as he exhaled. If it weren't so dark, he could probably see his breath cloud in front of his face and curl away into the blackness. As it was, however, sight was sadly not a luxury at the moment. As for his other senses? The silence was deep... _tangible_ , almost. It was the kind of silence he recalled from back in the enormous halls of Drake Manor, empty and hollow and full of ghostly echoes. Only this time, it wasn't wood paneled floors stuck beneath bare feet or warm air from carefully conditioned air streaming from the vents. The hollow, empty feeling around and inside of him was nothing new. The terror of the unfamiliar environment that surrounded him- like the unforgiving stone that lay below him, or the dampness that seeped through his jacket just enough to make him shiver or the endless void that blacked his vision- that was downright unbearable.

He had been conscious -or mostly, anyway- for some time now. How long he'd been out, he didn't know. What he did know, given the new surroundings and the faint scent of chloroform still stinging his nose, was that if he ever wanted to find out, he'd play dead until his captor or captors returned with more information. That and...it was easier not to panic if he focused on keeping an even pulse and steady breathing.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. If he could figure out where he was, at least, then he'd have  _something_ to work with. Maybe he could use his cell phone to signal Jason or Batman or...or _anyone_. He willed his arms to move and to his surprise found that he could move them quite freely, though a bit heavy from the sedative. If he could just reach his phone, then maybe- Oh, he realized, face falling as his hands patted against empty pockets. _Gone_. Of course... So was the homing device and so was his  _wallet_. The bastards took _everything_ , did't they?

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. He swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the sudden hammering panic in his chest.  _Calm down, Drake. Breathe._

Tim sucked in a long breath and held it in, sighing just a bit when his heart finally began to slow back down. Good. Keep in control. Now, it still wouldn't hurt to figure out where he was. Dark, cold, damp? And...was that stone beneath him? Or perhaps concrete? Tim stretched his hand out cautiously and pressed it down to the ground right beside his face. It was gritty like stone, but too smooth and consistent. It  _had_ to be concrete, then. His nose still stung a bit from the chloroform, but now that he sort of new what was around him, that only allowed so many possibilities. He had a strong suspicion that if he were able to smell properly, then he'd be gagging on the lovely aroma of sewer water in the air.

Okay, that's something. But why the sewers? If the Owls really  _had_ taken him, then...why not a crypt or a dungeon or something? That's more or less what Dick had always described, right?

Oh god,  _Dick._ His breath hitched at the thought, and the beautiful, broken face flashed in his mind involuntarily. The yellow eyes that had once been nightmarish to behold were now only a wistful memory.

" _Tim, NO!_ " 

It almost brought a smile to his face, remembering the desperate plea before he blacked out in the arms of an Owl. Tim knew he cared. But now- now he was  _dead_. And so was-

"Jason," he whispered soundlessly to himself.  Both of them, almost certainly dead. Even if by some miracle they survived, Dick would be long gone and Jason would bury himself in the Red Hood and either burn Tim out of his memory or try hunting him down to put a bullet in his brain. At least they'd be alive, right? And Tim...he'd pay the price for playing with fire. Maybe if he kept them in his memory, no matter how fucked up it was between the three of them, as long as he could still see their smiles in his head -Dick's sadistic and mysterious and Jason's devious and witty- maybe he'd be able to keep just that one shred of humanity after he was tortured into insanity. _  
_

Tim swallowed in fear at the thought, trying not to shake and shiver as he listened to the quiet echo of his ragged breathing resound off the walls. Dick had spilled out the horrible procedures that accompanied this whole Talon thing, but, now that Tim thought about it, had still been a bit vague. He mentioned sensory deprivation, starvation, even  _dying_ and being ripped back to life. But he had never mentioned how slow it all seemed, and how even when it was relatively painless, he'd be imprisoned inside his head, picturing the most painful, bloody scenario possible. 

As a child, he remembered reading in school from Edgar Allen Poe's works; The Pit and the Pendulum had always been his favorite. Or at least the one that stood out in his memory the most, anyway. He supposed that it was because not only was it physically terrifying to watch a blade descend  _painfully_   slow to slice into your abdomen and cut you in two, but it was also mentally petrifying because of the pit; being able to  _choose_ your way of going out, both equally painful and both equally impossible to escape. But the  _hope_ was the worst part; the main character cleverly used the rats to escape his bonds and subsequently the  _blade_ , but at the same time doomed himself to the squeaky little monsters with their claws and teeth and diseases. The hope and the tiny flashes of triumph the man had while he endured it almost made him sick when he read it. In fact...Tim can't recall even being able to finish the story because it struck him so deeply. Now it was just cruel irony that he seemed to be living in the same hell, as far as rats and mental torment goes. He hoped like hell they didn't actually have a giant death pendulum, though.

The question was now, though, whether or not he wanted any hope. Should he fight for his sanity and his humanity or just give in to his fate? At least if he gave in, the mental torment would cease to exist. Is that what the Owls want from him? To give in and let them take over him completely?

Stupid question. Of _course_ they wanted that; that's how they asserted their control. That's how they make him obedient. Or at least that was the easy way. The hard way would be fighting it every step of the way and inevitably always losing. The hard way would be resisting what he was becoming and screaming internally, forever, when he was unable to stop or escape. The hard way would be like... _Dick_. 

Pain and guilt crashed into his stomach like a freight train, and he cringed into the cold concrete once more.  _Dick_... empty and insatiable with bloodlust when he succumbed or a broken mess of memories and emotion when he fought. Did he want to have the soul slowly burned from the inside out or did he want to just get it over with and make it easy and painless as possible?

Would he ever be able to forgive himself? And -pretending that he wasn't considered a traitor and that they were still alive- would Jason or Dick? Oh god, that was a whole new can of soup to think about. His head was starting to throb and the lump that had previously formed in his throat began to burn enough to match his eyes.  _  
_

More than anything, he wished he could see their faces right now, even if they were furious and broken. Even if they would never show him forgiveness for betraying them.

 

He had to choose. Pain or insanity? To keep his soul or let it die? Hell? Or purgatory. His chest shook with an involuntary sob before he managed to hold his breath and control himself again. 

Dick had chosen pain. That much was certain. But in the end at least he had a soul left inside of him; a broken one....crippled with terror and paranoia and every flavor of anxiety he could think of, but at least he could feel something when he let himself. 

Jason, were he in this position, would definitely choose pain. He was too stubborn to do otherwise and the idea of giving the bastards the satisfaction of winning him over would be the eternal flame that kept him fighting. Tim almost managed to crack a smile when he thought of Jason's defiant jaw clenching as he spit in some faceless Talon's face, or those bright green eyes burning, refusing to let the yellow that was slowly creeping inside to overcome him. He could almost imagine Jason screaming in the dark and barraging the cement wall until he broke free and waging a one man war against every Owl and Talon that started pouring of the ends.

But he wasn't Jason, he sighed heavily, shaking away the daydream. He wasn't Jason and he wasn't Dick and everything in his nature told him he should definitely _not_  fight a losing battle. He could go on for a while, resisting and defying his fate, but in the end the only solution would be to give in and let it take over. He wasn't Superman, he wasn't invulnerable, he was only human after all. 

He sighed softly into the dark and curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and planting his cheek against his shoulder miserable. If only Dick were here...he could ask what lay ahead of him now, he could ask how long they'd keep him down here, or what exactly they would do to him to change his eyes. He'd ask a lot of things he should have a long time ago, back when this was just another job to do...back when it was just some demented deal for sex and information. Why didn't he just say no or let Dick kill him back in that fucking interrogation room at Arkham? 

He cursed himself soundlessly under his breath and could almost see the piercing yellow eyes that had captivated him so much in the first place. No, in fact, he could picture them perfectly; it was difficult to just forget something like that, wasn't it? The eyes that had filled him with terror and exhilaration every time Dick smiled and cracked a twisted joke or every time they hung above him in bed inside some darkened hotel room. He tried to blink them away, out of his minds eye at least, but they wouldn't. They never wavered or twitched _once_. The eyes, with their eerie glow and their gaze as sharp as a knife were there to stay...to haunt him. Those eyes were going to be his own before he ever saw the light of day again, he reminded himself with an helpless whimper.

"Is this how  _you_ felt, then?" he asked, knowing that Dick was never going to answer the question even if he  _had_ been there. He huffed a sigh and tried to stop the trembling that had now finally started to take over him.

" _Yes_." Tim gasped sharply in shock when the eyes he had pictured so clearly had suddenly _blinked_ directly across from him. He bolted upright, realizing that he hadn't been  _picturing_ the yellow eyes, they were actually  _there_. He was no longer alone in the room; he probably hadn't been for a few minutes now. _  
_

" _Do not let it paralyze you, child_ ," it whispered softly in that chilling voice. Tim had never heard such a voice before; it sounded almost as if...whoever the eyes belonged to hadn't spoken in a very, _very_ long time. Who was this? An Owl? Another Talon? Why couldn't he  _see_ them?!

" _Hush_ ," it commanded tonelessly, eyes blinking once and suddenly lowering down to where Tim was struggling to push himself up from the ground. Tim felt every hair follicle on edge as the eyes became level with his own. To make matters worse, he shrieked in panic when he felt a cold, clammy hand cup his chin. It wasn't on purpose when he tried jerking away, it was just a reflex, but to his surprise the chilling hand tightened and held his face fixed between his fingers. He-he hadn't even  _blinked_ in the process; if anything the eyes seemed bored while they tilted Tim's head up, bending it this way and that as if he was being surveyed.  _  
_

That was _impossible_ though, given the complete absence of light in this godforsaken sewer. Nocturnal eyes were reliable, but not in total darkness...were they? 

" _You're a small one,_ " it commented perhaps a bit condescendingly. " _And a little older than I'm used to. But you have potential."_ Tim struggled to control his ragged breathing but the fear was not letting him go this time.

" _You have known loss_ ," it continued coolly, tilting his head to the side and stroking his thumb across Tim's cheek. Tim's breath hitched with a small squeak inside his throat.  _"And a great deal of solitude. But you have loyalty in you, oh yes,"_  it continued, sounding gleeful now.

 _"You have a yearning within you to exceed and quite a hunger to please."_ Tim's stomach lurched at it's words and now his heart was drumming almost painfully fast. He's getting all of this from just one look at him?!

" _Oh, yes, you'll do_   _wonderfully_ ," it hummed, finally withdrawing the hand from Tim's face and standing back up.

"W-who are you?" Tim managed to force out dryly as he pushed himself slowly up to his knees.

" _I am Talon_ ," it responded simply, staring down at him with narrowed eyes. " _A_   ** _proper_** _Talon. Whatever you think you know due to my great-grandson's shameful idiocy, you can put it from your mind at once_ ," it commanded coldly, making Tim flinch. Jesus, this guy was for real... and what the hell did he mean by great-grandson?! Just before Tim could open his mouth, the bone-chilling Talon spoke again. **  
**

" _William Cobb was my name, but that is no more. I am solely, first and foremost a Talon. I serve and live for only the Court of Owls and carry out its wishes and commands to the letter. Learn from me_   **now** ,  _boy, this will be your fate as well."_ Tim choked and whimpered at the words but could not find the words to fight it. 

" _My task now is to forge you into the living weapon you were born to be, and teach you the way of the assassin,"_ he explained coolly when Tim said nothing. " _You will know the meaning of agony when I am through with you. You will shriek with terror and your mind will crumble to dust under the weight of the will of the Court,"_ Tim felt sick now as Cobb rattled on. He was to be a puppet; to be forged and strung like a doll. This was it, there was nothing he could do.

" _You will be reborn from the fire and you shall **thrive** , as all Talons before you and all Talons after must do," _he chanted on, as though casting a spell. " _We will make you great, Tim Drake, and immortal through the blood of the court. But first,_ " he stopped short, and Tim was aware of the whole sewer going absolutely still.

"What?" he forced out, raspy and wide eyes with fear. The laughter that followed was sickening, and Tim had never felt more than -well...  _prey_.

" _I will_   **break**   _you,"_ he whispered. Tim furrowed his brows in confusion before suddenly all he could feel was a blinding pain between his ribs that felt like something equivalent to hellfire. Both his hands shot to the source and found that William Cobb's hand was still there twisting a knife unmercifully between his ribs. 

"N-no,  _stop!_ " Tim shrieked in pain as he was yanked by the knife up to his feet.

" _Oh, Tim,"_ he whispered fondly. He could even feel the bastard's breath wheezing down his neck. " _We haven't even started yet_."

Tim's scream echoed for miles down the concrete tunnel.


	15. Favors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO GOT THEIR COMPUTER FIXED ME I DID WOOHOO HAPPY UPDATE DAY (they'll come more frequently now, I promise (: )

"What the hell do you mean I can't fight?!" Jason's howl of outrage echoed across the cave, causing a few bats to squeak angrily in reply. Batman, who stood motionless at the foot of Jason's sickbed, stared resolved into Jason's defiant eyes. Dick, however, remained a healthy distance away from the two and gazed at them cautiously from by the cell he had originally been caged in.

Jason clenched his fists in hopes of intimidating the vigilante, but of course it had no effect; probably because he was laying on a goddamn cot with his legs in homemade splints, courtesy of Alfred.

"Jason, you can barely  _walk_ , let alone fight," he scolded with an impenetrable expression. It briefly reminded him of that time in the alley with the tires...but he doubted the man remembered that.

"So what?! It won't take me long to heal up, they're not as broken as we thought, the x-rays _prove_ that!" Jason countered stubbornly. It was true; they had run x-rays on him forever ago and the results had just been printed out and displayed for him on the super computers. The image was sickening, but it wasn't because of the half dozen hair-line fractures on his lower knee ( _tibia_ , Batman had called it); it was because his kneecaps were exactly four inches below where they should have been. His knees were  _dislocated_. Resetting them had been beyond agonizing and it had taken the combined might of Batman, Alfred and Dick (even with his super-strength) to keep him from thrashing and hold him down long enough to crack each of them back in to place one by one. It would have been much easier if Jason would have let them sedate him, but that needle with a sketchy substance wasn't about to be let anywhere _near_ him, so...yeah. The whole ordeal had taken over an hour, but his knees were back in the right place and he was still fully capable of kicking ass. That is...once he was able to walk again, after the swelling went down.

"Your knees will be fine, sure, but the fractures on your legs need to  _heal_. Fight with them like that and not only will you be in constant pain, but you'll be a  _liability_ in the the fight because they'll slow you down," Batman explained, lips tightened grimly around the edges to display his frustration. Jason's heart skipped a beat and for a moment he felt stone cold, before the fire that was his fury blasted up into a full blown inferno.

"You assholes need all the help you can get, remember! I've fought with worse injuries for less and I've come out better for it, and I'll be  _damned_ before you stop me from murdering every last one of the bastards! Tim's life  _depends_ on it. If I die in the process, so what? I've got nothing left to lose and you'd have no more  _competition_  from the Red Hood, so where  _exactly_ is the liability I pose for you?!" Jason snarled, pushing himself up off the pillows with his teeth bared. This time Batman actually reacted to Jason's anger; his jaw fell slack ever so slightly and something in his expression faltered.

"Nothing to lose- Jason, you have  _everything_ to lose! I gave you another second chance to get your life back together because you have potential to be  _better_. I can never agree with your method's, but don't think I haven't been listening to you; don't think I don't know how badly you want to help, to _save_ people. I saw that in you when you were a child, I knew what you were capable of, and all the good you could do! But you have to save  _yourself_ in order to save other people, you have to abandon the bitterness and the stubborn self-righteousness, do you understand?!" he yelled, nearly pleading at this point. Jason snapped back in shock as the words sank in. Batman...he remembered..the alley, the threats, the boy he was so many years ago...he  _remembered_. That meant....he had known the whole  _time_ that he had been the Red Hood. He had never fooled the man for a second. Oh god.

"I'm trying to help you, Jason," Batman continued, softer now that he saw Jason finally letting the words sink in. "I want to save Tim too, but I also want to save  _you._ If you fight, that means I can't because you'll  _die_ ," he growled with intense convinction, making Jason fight a heavy gulp. 

"What would be the point of you dying, and me dying trying to save you? Then Tim would definitely be doomed," he reasoned logically, taking a step forward and sitting down at the edge of Jason's sick bed. Jason fought the urge to recoil with a cringe of discomfort."

"So don't try and protect me, then," he stated after a very long time, causing Batman's face (the part of it that was visible, anyway) to fall. "Don't look back for me and don't worry about protecting me. I've got a price on my head anyway, it's just a matter of time before they come looking for me again. Besides...if you're so concerned with  _saving_ me," the word was bitter on his tongue, "then Tim Drake is the best shot you've got. He betrayed me and threw me to the dogs, and I'm not sure I could ever forgive him for that, but... he's also the best  _friend_ , the best-..." what Tim Drake had been to him, he still didn't have a word for. Damn. 

Jason took a breath before continuing, trying hard not to let the burning in his throat consume him. "He's the only one I've cared about in a long time. He saved me from myself in a lot of ways. If he lives, if we save him...I'll be able to go on with my life and move on. Even if I die, as long as he's saved, I'll die happy. But if we fail..." Jason's eyes grew dark and hollow.

"I'll never be able to live with myself. I'd rather die than see the kid turned into- into  _that_ ," he spat, jerking his hand toward Dick, whose yellow eyes grew wide with shock and pain as soon as Jason turned his way. Nobody missed the way that he bit his lip in shame before hanging his head just to avoid Jason's green daggers staring a hole into him accusingly.

"Stop it," Batman snapped, causing Jason to lower his hand and tear his gaze away from the former Talon in disgust. "You're both just as equally at fault, so don't act like you're better than him. Besides, he's our best shot at rescuing Tim," he reminded, chastising Jason sternly. Dick peeked back up at the two of them at that, though the shame still branded itself on his gaunt face.

Jason snorted stubbornly and crossed his arms, turning away from the two of them to glare angrily at the Batmobile in the far corner.

"Whatever. I'm still going to fight," he proclaimed finally, to which Batman sighed and shook his head.

"We'll decide that later," he replied heavily. "For now, I need to finish debriefing you both about the findings from Dick's blood sample." Instantly, both criminals snapped their heads up in interest toward the Bat as he stood and strode over towards the computer. Dick was on his feet faster than Jason could keep track of and by Batman's side (though maintaining a respectful or cautious berth) as the image of Jason's x-rays disappeared, only to be replaced with what looked like a very complicated book report.

Dick, who Jason had not really cared looked at since the hotel, stood motionless as Batman scrolled through the document seamlessly. It was funny, almost, just how pale he looked in the blinding glow of the white screen. It almost made him look like a statue or a ghost. Only his eyes moved, darting quickly from side to side as he read the lines on the screen, even before Batman started talking. Jason was almost jealous at how fast that mind of his could take in and process information. Even more jealous that he could actually read the screen; there was no way he could see the words from all the way over here. Pricks. Both of them, for keeping him out of the loop.

"This isn't- are you sure that's accurate?!" Dick suddenly burst in shock, sounding weak and shaky as he turned toward Batman.

"Is  _what_ accurate? What's going on?" Jason called out in irritation toward the duo. Batman turned away from the screen so that he could face both Dick and Jason when he finally spoke.

"Dick's... _condition_ ," he started carefully (no one missed the way the word made Dick stiffen warily), "isn't a mutation. Not a permanent one, anyway. It can be reversed," he informed them, watching both of their faces carefully. Jason propped an eyebrow with interest. Reversed? That meant...could they possibly de-power the other Talons then? It would certainly make killing the bastards easier...and possibly to cure Tim if they already started mutating him. Jason shuddered at that thought.

Dick, however, stood in shock, not even blinking as the information processed (or refused to process, by the looks of it) through his mind. What on earth did that report say to actually make freak-a-zoid go into shock?

"Okay, so what do you mean? How can it be reversed, and how can we use it to our advantage?" Jason demanded, pushing himself up to straighten his shoulders in a business-like fashion. Batman turned towards him and nodded as he sucked in a preparatory breath.

"He's constantly being subjected to a series of chemicals that work almost like a virus that attaches itself to his cells and causes the mutation-"

"Roy...mentioned something about the cells being mutated," Jason interrupted, thinking back to the conversation with Harper that felt like a million years ago, at this point. ""But he didn't mention any virus or whatever."

"That's because he only had enzymes and proteins from fingerprints and a hair follicle to work with, I checked with him," Batman informed, causing Dick to blink and finally show a sign of life. He tilted his head at the news, surprised there had been a hair follicle. Dumbass, Jason smiled. He must have forgotten the beauty of forensics and gotten clumsy.

"But now that we have his blood to work with, the mutation can be seen a little clearer," he informed, turning around to tap a single button that brought up the image of what looked like a bunch of squiggly things with some kind of evil, spindley looking robot attached to it. Jason made a face, not truly understanding what he was seeing, but Dick choked and recoiled in disgust.

"That- that  _thing_ -" he strangled out in horror. "That's what doing this to me?" _  
_

"A few billion of those things...yes," Batman nodded gravely. A strange noise emitted from Dick's throat, almost as if he were some wounded animal. Jason chewed the inside of his lip, fighting the sympathy welling up inside his chest. But...honestly, if he were to find out that he was infested with a zillion little bug-robot things that were turning him into-...well, whatever a Talon was, he wouldn't feel so hot either. _  
_

"At first we thought you might be ingesting them, but there's no way. Given the amount of time you spent away from them, it would be impossible. Then we thought they may be self-reproducing, but the bot essentially 'died' the moment we separated it from the blood cell. Blood cells don't technically 'live' for very long, the body replaces them too often, so new bots would have to be continuously created. That means there's only one other option," he explained, peeking Jason's interest. Dick, who must have already read the information, stared bug-eyed into blank space, not even paying attention.

"There's something in his body producing the bots. An extra organ of sorts, only it's completely mechanical. If we find it, we can remove it," Batman smiled triumphantly. "And we could not only cure Dick, but neutralize the other Talons." 

Jason blinked in shock and spared a quick glance for Dick, who had donned a sickened expression and placed his hand over his ribs as if he were going to be ill.

"How do we find it?" Jason asked, still surveying the ex-Talon closely.

"We performed an x-ray on him," Batman stated. Suddenly Dick's eyes were sharp, more alert than Jason had ever seen them as he zeroed in on Batman expectantly. "Just to get a good idea of what kind of injuries he had sustained during your fight, but since he heals so quickly we weren't able to find anything. Not any  _injuries_ anyway. What we found when the photo finally developed-" he turned back toward his computer to tap over to the next photo- the photo of Dick's complete skeleton- and there was a collective gasp from both of the younger males.

"I know," Batman nodded, turning back to them. The machine wasn't big, but it was ugly. It was a simple oval shape contraption, no bigger than an egg (which is actually a pretty good metaphor, all things considered), spouting thousands and thousands of tiny silver  _blips_ on the screen, which Jason could only assume were the virus-bots. That wasn't the worst part, though. The Egg thing was intimidating and terrifying, no doubt, but the worst part was where the monster was placed.

"Boy, they made damn sure that no one would ever try to remove it," Jason whistled slowly in awe. He didn't know much about x-rays or anatomy, but he did now that if they tried to remove that Egg now, it would be a nasty surgery considering it was in the exact area where Dick's heart rested. 

A choked whimper suddenly broke out from Dick's lips and he covered his mouth in devastation, falling to his knees before the computer. Jason, who had been doing an excellent job at holding a poker face and trying to despise the man suddenly felt his resolve break into pieces. Jesus... his throat burned as he tried to swallow, so he forced himself to look away from the sobbing mess that was Dick Grayson.  _Poor bastard_....

Batman said nothing at first, uncomfortable as they all were, probably not knowing what to say. But after a few moments, he cleared his throat and turned to Dick.

"I know a surgeon...a damn good one. They could help you, Dick. It would be a risk, but..." he didn't have to finish the sentence, they all knew what he would say. Jason frowned and considered the vigilante and the tragic Talon carefully. It wasn't Dick's fault that this happened to him... hell, from what he had learned, he'd been forced into this life; he should still be some circus clown, living a happy life, not torn and twisted like this. He had tried so hard not to feel pity for the man who had destroyed his life, he had tried so hard to stubbornly cling to his own hatred of the monster that was Talon because even if he hadn't chosen that life, he still let it consume him, he gave _up_... but watching the man now, helpless and clutching his chest, enslaved by the machine twisting its calws into his heart and ruling his life, he couldn't help but hurt for him. He couldn't help but see him as a victim of the Court, as someone who needed _help_. He wasn't just a Talon anymore, and Jason would be a fool to keep trying to view him and hate him like that. Batman was right, god damn him. He wanted to save the man...he wanted to save Dick Grayson, and now there was no turning back, not now that he actually  _cared_. Fuck. _  
_

"I promise you, Dick, that if we make it out alive... I'll help you get it removed, so you can live a normal life. I owe you that at least," Batman swore quietly, placing a firm hand on Dick's shoulder. Dick swallowed thickly and looked up at him blankly, _helplessly_ , even, not daring to hope. Jason bowed his head and took a long breath before resolving himself to do the impossible.

It was painful, make no mistake, but the splints on his legs supported him enough that he could actually stand up and bear his own weight. Batman and Dick both snapped their eyes to him as he lifted himself completely off the bed and took step after step toward them with a pained, but determined smile.

"Dick," he said, legs shaking with effort as he pushed forward. Dick stood immediately to his feet and Batman took a step forward cautiously, probably wary that Jason might attack Dick or maybe fall over from exertion, but Jason waved him off as he stopped right in front of them. Dick and Batman both stared at him breathlessly, waiting before Jason finally moved.

"Truce?" Jason offered, sticking out his hands, not a trace of malice in his heart as he stared straight into Dick's signature yellow eyes. Dick blinked uncertainly at him before taking a breath of life, it seemed, as relief washed over his face. Dick even smiled as he took Jason's hand and shook it, solidifying the peace between them.

"Yeah. Truce," he agreed, never breaking eye contact with each other. They let the moment linger probably for a slightly inappropriate amount of time, but Batman be damned, this was important. It was only when there was a soft cough from by the stairs that their contact, hands and eyes, was broken when they turned to see Alfred standing in the doorway with none other than Talia al Ghul.

Talia smirked as she surveyed the boys; Jason of course stared her down, even if he couldn't hide the blush on his face. Dick took one look at her and stiffened; after all, once he found out that it was Talia al Ghul that they had been referring to, he at once rejected the idea, given that he had tried to murder her and her father, but Talia had promised to remain civil, according to Bruce.

Talia, however, had nothing but contempt for the ex-Talon as she surveyed him. She did a great job of ignoring Dick, though, as she strode past Alfred and approached Batman.

"Hello, Beloved," she cooed softly with a smirk. Batman's lips tightened and he said nothing, only nodded solemnly.

"No hello kiss?" she joked, crossing her arms and tilting her weight to one side. Batman remained stoic, betrayed only by a small twitch in his cheek.

"Awkward," Jason muttered, scratching his head and making a face. Talia snorted lightly and sighed.

"I see, so straight to business, then. Okay," she shrugged, raising her hands in a white flag gesture.

"I'll help you, only because Jay and B asked me to. But I'll be demanding a favor in return from both of you," she declared, chilling Jason to the bone.The last time she asked for a favor, she literally asked for control of  _Gotham_. Now that she had both him and Batman in her debt, they'd have no  _choice_.

"Jason," she started coolly, turning to him with a smile. "You will surrender your control of Gotham to Batman."

"W-... _what_?" he blinked in surprise. Was that  _it_? Really? Jason tried and failed to hide his relief, to which Talia arched a brow curiously.

"Agreed," Jason nodded, giving away nothing. So she didn't know about the agreement that he and Batman had already made. Good.

"Alright," she continued reluctantly, disappointment obviously written on her face as she turned to Batman.

"You," she hummed lovingly, stepping toward the vigilante. "You, I have a special favor in mind, but that can wait until later. For now, however," she paused, turning now to stare directly at Dick.

"I believe we have business to take care of. How long until we storm this Court of yours?" she asked.

Dick made a face and scoffed. "It's not  _my_  Court, I want them dead as much as you do," he complained, making Jason crack a smile. It seemed the man's spirit was renewed a little, for which he was grateful.

"Tomorrow," Batman interrupted before a squabble broke out. "We storm tomorrow night, we just need time to gather all our forces together and create a strategy. I was also hoping you'd help me convince Jason to sit this one out, he's been rather...stubborn," Batman admitted, earning an angry scoff from Jason.

"What are you talking about, Beloved, of course he'll fight," Talia retorted, almost shocked at the very suggestion. "This is  _his_ battle after all, he has a right to defend his life and love-"

" _Talia_ ," Jason muttered awkwardly through his teeth. 

"There's no shame in fighting for him, love is love," she scolded Jason gently. Dick started to look very uncomfortable beside him and Batman grimaced. Talia frowned, obviously sensing that she was missing something.

"Am I mistaken thinking that this boy they kidnapped was your lover?" she asked bluntly, causing Jason to blush and Dick to suddenly take a very intense interest in the cave ceiling.

"I-...he was... _our_ lover... Yeah," Jason coughed quietly. Talia's eyes popped in surprise.

"You share him?" she questioned, honestly trying to understand, though it was just making the situation even more uncomfortable.

"It's- well...complicated," he admitted, sparing a glance toward Dick, who was still examining the stalactites around them.

"I see," she stated slowly, tapping her chin. "Well. Still a just cause to fight. I'm sure B. here has a few brace's he could lend you to keep those knees in place while you fight. I'll even help you spar, just to make sure you're ready to fight. Agreed?" It really wasn't a question, and they all knew it. Batman sighed in defeat and nodded. Jason grinned in triumph  and thanked Talia right then and there. Dick, now that he was relieved from the discomfort of Talia's questioning, returned to them with a determined gleem in his eye.

"I'll help, too," he offered, to which Talia considered him silently before shrugging and nodding.

"Wonderful," Alfred hummed lightly. "Then I shall retrieve the knee braces and make some tea."

"Thanks, Alfred," Batman offered sourly, to which Talia and Jason both snickered.


	16. The Rescuers Go Down Under

There are just some things in life that are just too beautiful, too  _perfect_ to bear that you want to make last forever; the color of the sky add the sun sets, the dew shimmering on flower petals in early morning, the way you feel when your first boyfriend tells you he loves you... Tim couldn't be happier, snuggled up in Jason's arms on the couch in his apartment with his cheek pressed affectionately against the man's chest.

"You know, it feels easy being with you. All warm and snuggly and kissing your stupid face," Tim murmured, giggling softly.

Jason's laugh was rich and deep in his ear and he felt Jason trace his calloused fingers across his shoulder. "Is my face really stupid?" He hummed with amusement. Tim tilted his head up and caught a glimpse of Jason's bright, crooked smile. Oh yeah, this was a Kodiak moment if ever he saw one. This was one of those times he could cherish that smile forever.

"Stupid, goofy, beautiful, all of the above," Tim expounded gently, picking at the collar of Jason's shirt. Jason laughed again, sending Tim's heart fluttering madly.

"If you say so, kid," Jason replied softly, brushing his nose over Tim's forehead. Tim smiled broadly and snuggled closer.

"He's right you know, your face is totally stupid and charming," chimed Dick, who suddenly appeared leaning lazily into the frame of the door. He was wearing a black t-shirt (one of Jason's) and some navy boxers, bringing out the gentle blue of his eyes. Tim grinned and held out a hand for the man, inviting him to squash himself in with them on the couch.

Dick bound forward with liquid grace and slid effortlessly into the cushions on Tim's other side.

"What about me?" He asked with a dazzling smile. "What about my face?"

"The face is phenomenal, it's just your stupid hair I can't get past," Jason joked, leaning over and ruffling the dark locks affectionately.

Dick scoffed and ducked away with a grimaced before leaning forward and pecking Jason's lips with a kiss before bending down and doing the same for Tim.

"Please, you wish your hair game was as good as mine," Dick jabbed back easily, settling down with his arms wrapped around Tim and his head resting on Jason's shoulder.

Tim hummed and curled comfortably between the two of them. "Obviously I'm the best looking though," he interjected jokingly with a grin, which was bullshit of course, since Dick was an actual Adonis and Jason had all the appeal of a motorcycle riding sex god. But both men's eyes twinkled brilliantly as they laughed and agreed vehemently.

Oh how he loved this, hire he loved them both. How he wished he could spend forever in this moment, warm and surrounded by the arms of his lovers and laughing all the while.

But damn if it wasn't interrupted by a sudden headache. Tim winced as the sharp sting made his head swim and his eyes swim with sudden dizziness. He grasped Dick and Jason's arms to steady himself.

"You okay, love?" Dick asked with a concerned frown.

"I'll get some medicine if you need," Jason offered with an uncertain but helpful expression.

Tim shook his head, which was a mistake because suddenly the dizziness became full blown nausea, overwhelming to say the least.

His bones began to ache and Tim squeezed his eyes shut as the warmth of Jason and Dick suddenly vanished, leaving him frozen and utterly alone. The couch was gone, and so was the sun now, and when Tim opened his eyes the apartment was replaced with the stone and stench of the sewer.

His body was shivering uncontrollably and the pain, if he could see, would have been blinding. He was covered in blood and his skin cut and carved to hell and he was absolutely starving.

He had no idea how long he'd been down here or even how long he'd been out for. Sleep was hard to come by and it never lasted long, and now that he was awake, all Tim felt was devastation and a kind of...numbness. It wasn't real. Jason and Dick, that life together with them, it had been a dream. They were dead and it was too late now.

Too late. Tim closed his eyes and fought the burn in his throat weakly. He didn't even have the energy to weep anymore, but the loss still burned a raw hole in what was left of his sorry soul.

"Still alive down there?" Cobb's raspy voice taunted from above him. The hole in Tim's chest ached at the sound of his tormentor, but this time he had enough energy to twist his face into a loathing scowl and hissed.

"That's the spirit, boy,"  Cobb purred in approval. Tim's stomach coiled in aggravation at the remark and he fought the impulse to slam his fists on the ground in anger like a baby. Instead, he chose to remain still as best he could. Or would have anyway, if his limbs would stop shaking.

"You're doing a poor job of maintaining control," Cobb observed coolly. "Although the attempt itself is impressive. You're months ahead of your predecessors, at least." Tim shuddered involuntarily.

"You really want to control your pain and your rage?" Cobb continued, taking a step forward so that Tim could see him better. "Channel it," he challenged. The next thing he knew he heard the clatter of metal crashing to the ground just beside his head, making him jump. He reached a shaking hand out to clasp it in his hand to discover that it was a blade; and it was _sharp_.

"Now," Cobb crouched defensively with his yellow eyes glittering in anticipation. He hated that his eyes, even his face looked almost exactly like Dick's. An evil monster with the face of an angel he tried so hard to save. Damn him!

" _Have at me_."

Tim didn't hesitate; he had nothing left to lose. In an instant, he grabbed the blade and was on his feet with murder in his eyes charging straight for the waiting Talon.

"At last," William Cobb gleamed before their blades met with a loud clang.

...........

 "At last!" Dick exclaimed, almost sounding relieved as Batman removed the blindfolds.

"I don't understand why we had to wear blindfolds when the assassin princess didn't have to," Jason complained as he blinked away the blindness under the street light of an empty walkway. Batman said nothing in response and gave no indication that he even heard him. Talia, however offered him a big, pearly white smile, which Jason of course scowled at.

"Where is your archer friend?" Batman grumbled, changing the subject straight to business. Jason shrugged and shook his head, but before he could open his mouth, an arrow whizzed past his head with a shaft redder than the wall of bricks it became wedged in.

"Howdy," Roy- Red Arrow, in his current get-up called down from the roof cheerfully.

"That'd be him," Jason replied to Batman pointedly. The vigilante's lips twitched, perhaps in irritation, but otherwise gave no hint of expression.

"He's late," Batman remarked. Jason could clearly see the indignant frown on Roy's face even before he leapt down to meet them.

"I've been here for 5 minutes already," Red Arrow countered under his breath, but one glare from Batman and suddenly Roy had nothing more to say. Sheesh, Jason thought.

"Are we going to do this or what?" Talia asked expectantly with her hands planted on her hips.

Batman turned toward Dick and nodded, instructing him to lead the way since he was the one who had to lead them to the entrance. Dick took a deep breath and nodded back before slinking his way through the crowd toward the street and ripping up the heavy metal lid to the top of the sewer in one go. He didn't even offer a backwards look before letting the metal crash to the ground and jumping in feet first like he'd done this a thousand times, which he probably had. They heard no splash or sound of impact from below, their only que to follow came from a barely recognizable whisper rising from the hole with the stench of waste.

_"Clear."_

Jason leapt into the waiting darkness next, landing with a thud 10 feet below; not nearly as graceful as Dick, but still. He stuck the landing. He could make out Dick's luminescent eyes nodding at him and felt the man's hand pulling him back and calling out softly again.

" _Clear_."

Roy followed in the same manner, landing with a dull thud. Then came Talia and Batman who, much to Jason's displeasure, also managed to land just as silently as Dick had earlier. He didn't have time to wonder how they did it, though, it was time to move. There was a soft clicking sound before sudden light erupted from the end of a small flashlight which Batman tossed his way, which Jason caught. Two more lit up as well, one being given to Roy and the other remaining with Batman. Dick had told them before back at the cave he wouldn't need one, since he could already see in the dark. Talia simply chose not to carry one, opting instead to use both hands freely for battle and let everyone else carry the lights. Jason couldn't help but be impressed by that. Still, now that they could see in the dim light of the flashlights, Dick began to tread forward and waved at everyone behind to follow.

There was something about Dick in the dim shadows here, even though Jason could barely see the man's face. His muscles were taught and poised and every move the assassin made screamed that he was on absolute edge. It reminded him of the first time he met the man. This wasn't just a rescue for him, this may as well have been another hit for him. If they were anywhere else at any other time, it would have been hard to resist shoving him against the wall and ravishing him, pushing all those super-senses over the edge. In the pit of his stomach, he could still feel the temptation, but it was quickly drowned out by the stench of human excretion, the  _drip-drip-drip_ of foul waters and the sight of a rat scuttling over the dark cement. And then of course, _Tim_.

He was waiting on them.

Jason quickly shook the thoughts out of his head and continued to follow. They trekked for probably about an half an hour in absolute silence before Dick came to an abrupt stop at a dead end. Roy glanced at Jason in confusion and hesitation and Jason shrugged at him. As if he knew what the hell was going on. Dick turned toward the rest of them now with his expression dead-panned.

"This is it," he whispered, gesturing toward the wall. Jason frowned in confusion. "Once we go through this door, they'll know we're here," he continued gravely.

"If anyone wants to turn back, now's your chance,"  he warned one last time. Of course, not a single one of them moved. Dick nodded and turned back toward the wall to press a single brick in the center. To his amazement, Jason witnessed the wall shuddering and suddenly withdrawing to reveal a hidden tunnel, just slightly shorter than the one they were in now.

"After you," Dick stepped aside and ushered the rest of them forward. Jason thought it strange that Dick would suddenly fall behind like that, but just as he was about to step past him, he felt the man's hand grab him back. Batman, Roy and Talia passed on without looking toward the two of them and when Jason turned to ask Dick what the hell he was doing, he was cut off by Dick's lips pressing almost desperately against his.

To say he was surprised was an understatement; this was hardly the time or place, but Jason was grateful for the comfort. When Dick pulled back, the expression on his face was soft.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly in his ear. That's when Jason realized that Dick needed that kiss for comfort of his own just as much as Jason had. Jason managed a half-smile and pressed another quick kiss to the man's lips.

"Stay alive," Jason murmured back, earning a slightly surprised, questioning expression from the man. Jason lingered in Dick's touch for only a moment more, before slowly pulling back and turning away, shoving his helmet on to prepare for battle. If they both lived, he'd consider what just happened in more depth, but for now -and the renewed vigor in Dick's steps behind him seemed to echo his agreement- they had a job to do.

It took less than 2 minutes of silence in the tunnel when it ended abruptly and they found themselves standing in the center of a large, underground dome with dozens and dozens of faces staring down at them from the seats lining above. The Owls, every single one of them equipped with plain white masks and formal wear and gowns were everywhere. There were men, women and even some children, all of them eerily silent as half a dozen intruders barged into their Court. From the look at the figures in the center of the circle, though, with the dozen frozen figures of black-clad, ashen, undead Talons poised with varying weapons pointed their way- the Court had definitely been expecting them.

"Batman, Red Hood, Red Arrow, Talia al Ghul and one of our very own Talons," a sallow voice hummed from where the Court sat perched above. It was the leader, donned in a long black cape, but otherwise dressed in the same garb as the rest of them. "Welcome to our humble headquarters. How can we help you?"

Dick stood frozen, eyes flickering madly between the Master owl and the murderous Talon's probably itching where they stood to tear out his traitorous throat. Jason scowled, but just before he could pop off, Batman swiftly interrupted.

"You know why we're here. Release the boy and no one has to get hurt," Batman called, as if this were a negotiation. Jason's hand twitched toward his guns as not just the Master, but every single Owl and Talon in attendance began to laugh with sinister intent. He could see through his peripheral vision that Roy's grip on his bow had tightened and he was dangerously close to yanking an arrow out and starting the fight prematurely. Talia already had her hands on the hilts of her guns resting on her thighs and Batman- well. He appeared almost at ease as he conversed with the Court. Damn cape of his hid any signs that he was on edge and ready to tear off any limbs.

"I'm glad you find this _funny_ ," Batman retorted, though his voice held no trace of humor. "If you don't let him go, then understand this; we are going to _take_ him and your Court will be dismantled _brick by brick."_

"Well then, Batman," the leader responded in kind, holding out his arms widely as if welcoming him. "I'd love to see you and your little band of rejects _try_."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the Talons, who had waited so patiently and still, launched themselves forward with roars of blood lust and the battle began.

Batman took on 3, ducking and dodging left, right and below and he was holding his own very well, but he had yet to lay a blow on any one of them. The rest of them had 2 Talons each; Roy was struggling. He could hold his own in a normal street fight, but with the Talons he had been warned to avoid hand-to-hand at all if he could and as fast as he was with his bow, the Talons were equally fast. Talia wasn't even bothering to dodge, she had  both guns out and firing mercilessly into the chests of her Talons, which slowed them down considerably, but not entirely. As soon as her bullets were out, her blade was unsheathed and before Jason could blink the first Talon's head -a woman's, with pale gray hair (must've been one of the older ones, he thought)- fell to the ground and her body went limp. The second one hissed and put some distance between them, which left them circling each other. Dick and his adversaries were barely visible, since  all three of them were rushing each other at full speed; the only indication of their progress was the glint of blades in the dim light and then the resounding clang as they collided.

As for Jason, his Talons leered at him in excitement as they circled him like predators. That was their mistake, Red Hood was no pray; as soon as they jumped him, Jason rolled out of the way and the two of them crashed together and Jason shot twice clean through both bodies, one through the back and directly into the chest of the other. They screeched, and the blood oozing from the wounds was black. The bleeding stopped almost as soon as it started, however, and they were rushing him again. This time he aimed for their foreheads, hoping to wreak a little brain damage. It worked for one, this one a sadistic looking male with dark brown hair. He was down and gasping at the ceiling in pain, but not dead. Red Hood saw his chance and tore off his helmet. To anyone else, it must've looked like an idiotic move, but as soon as he clicked the hidden switch and tossed it onto the chest of the injured assassin, the helmet exploded and the Talon didn't have much of a body left to reanimate anymore. The remaining one stared in shock for only a second before shrieking in rage. Now that his helmet was gone, he still had one murderous Talon to take care of and his Ace  in the hole was gone. She knew it too, it seemed, as a mad grin spread on her ashen face.

Jason braced himself and this time let her slam into him full force. He heard something in his body snap sickeningly and thanked the power of adrenaline that he couldn't quite feel it. Putting that thought to the back of his mind, he returned the favor in kind; her arm, which he had locked in his grip was quickly snapped when he slammed her outstretched elbow over his knee, causing her to shriek in pain. She was lightning fast, though, and the moment of weakness lasted only a second and she dodged when Jason tried to grab her other arm. He had to be quick too, though, otherwise that arm would heal and he'd be facing her full wrath again in just a few moments.

He started shooting again, this time with both guns trained on her carefully. He landed some solid hits, but she was _fierce_ and kept coming straight for him. He fired his last bullet into her forehead, and to his relief, she paused, swaying on her feet. He threw his guns aside now, preparing to fight again when suddenly she gasped and her gray skin suddenly turned blue and icy. She fell to the ground, motionless with a single arrow protruding from her back, already completely frozen. He glanced up to see Roy grinning and saluting him with a wink.

"They're allergic to ice!" he called out the obvious to Jason. He halfway wondered how he figured it out when he saw both of the Talons Roy had been fighting frozen on the cement, one with an arrow in his shoulder, one with a shaft straight through his forehead with Roy's boot on their throats. God, he was a genius.

"Watch this!" he called, slamming a kick down in his adversaries frozen body and shattering it completely into shards. "My ice arrows are loaded with frozen nitrogen, which turns out don't mix with walking corpses."

"Absolute zero," Jason nodded understandingly. He'd have to thank the man later, he thought, bringing his own boots stomping down to shatter the she-Talon's head. He took a moment to look around now; he and Roy were the only ones who'd beaten their foes; Batman still had two left and was trying to put some distance in to fight long range. Talia was still fighting her remaining Talon, who had recently lost his forearm courtesy of Talia's blade, but Talia herself, short of a few forming bruises, seemed fine. Dick had also killed one of his adversaries, but he was in much worse shape against his remaining enemy.

He was defending himself against ceaseless blows from an extremely aggressive Talon with knives sticking out of his ribs, arms and legs and blood seeping down his skin.

"You help Batman, I'll go after Dick!" Jason yelled to Red Arrow, who nodded and loaded another arrow. Jason reached down into his boot and pulled out another gun, firing three times into the Talon's back, causing it to screech and turn his direction. Dick's eyes met his and Jason nodded, giving him a chance to pull the knives out of his skin as he baited the Talon to charge at him. He shot again and again and strode forward as the Talon absorbed each bullet with a yelp of pain. As soon as the bullets were gone, however, the Talon growled at him, half in pain half in excitement now that he was defenseless. He was just a fraction of a second too slow, though; just as he was about to jump for the kill, dual blades impaled his throat and he had just enough time to gurgle in surprise before Dick severed his head clean off. He was panting and injured, but his wounds were already healing, too.

He heard a soft rustling from above and the murmur of displeased voice and as he looked up, he witnessed the Owls shuffling through the seats and headed towards the exits. Jason sneered in disgust; cowards. All of them. But he didn't have time to worry about them. He turned back to Dick and strode forward to stand beside him.

"We have to go now. The others can hold their own for now, but we need to find Tim. Where is he?" he inquired, not missing the flash of hesitation in Dick's eyes.

"Your not going to like what you see when we get there," Dick warned. But before Jason could retort, Dick was on the move and Jason bound after him to follow. Dick kicked in another section of wall, revealing yet another secret tunnel which they ran through for a couple of minutes before they were stopped by a simple wall of bars.

"He's through here," Dick panted, kicking the bolts twice and breaking the lock. "But he won't be alone, Jason."

"Hasn't stopped us so far," Jason replied with a steele tone. They exchanged one last long look, yellow eyes boring into bright green before they turned forward and ran straight into hell.

........................................

Dick could smell the blood before he could see it, which sent a tingling chill down his spine. For a moment, he had the terrible suspicion that Tim had suffered the worst, but then he remembered the Court wouldn't just let him die. He was probably just in excruciating pain, then. To be honest, that thought wasn't comforting, either.

 He hadn't prayed in a long, long time, but now if there was any merciful, higher power, he silently pleaded them to let Tim still be okay.

 It wasn't long now until they reached the chamber, he remembered exactly where it was. How could he forget? And now, how would Jason? When the blood had become overwhelming to his nose is when they finally signaled Jason to stop. He was there. Tim was there, he could smell him! But- Dick recoiled and fought the impulse to run. So was Cobb.

"Dick's what's-" Jason inquired before he was cut off him _him_.

"Ah, Richard, how nice of you to join us!" Jason jumped and immediately clicked on his flashlight to see where the speaker was coming from. Dick didn't need it though, he could see the man -his own great grandfather- perfectly.

"William," Dick nodded tensely to where Cobb stood tall across from them. He could have been Dick's own doppelganger to any normal eyes. Jason fell silent when the light of the torch illuminated Cobb's ashen flesh.

"Come for a family reunion?" he hummed pleasantly, as though discussing the weather. Dick grimaced; he hated that Cobb was beating around the bush, that's not like him.

"No, grandfather. You know why I'm here," Dick responded gravely.

"I do," he admitted. "What I don't know, however, is why you still call me grandfather. You've disgraced our name, you are no longer kin of mine. And if you think I'll let you remove my new protege, you must have lost your mind. Not that it was ever much use to you anyway," he sneered. Dick's lips twitched angrily but he said nothing.

"Just tell me...where he is," Dick demanded, fighting to keep his heart rate in control.

"Fine, fool. Just remember you asked for this," his grandfather grinned before stepping aside to reveal Tim's limp form behind him, covered in blood and about ten pounds lighter than Dick remembered, and eyes lined with dark circles and sunken in to his sallow skin.

They were open and they were staring straight at him and Jason both, no expression on his face.

"Tim!" Jason called out, stepping forward until Dick raised out his arm to stop him cold.

"Don't," Dick gasped, recognizing the empty look on Tim's face.

"What?" Jason barked at him in aggravation. Of course he would; they were so close to rescue and now he was holding Jason back at the last second. But he didn't know, how could he?

"Stop, Jason," Dick whispered hoarsely. "He doesn't recognize us."

"What?" Jason spurted again in confusion.

"Jason... _he's gone feral_."


	17. Choose Your Own Adventure

"What the hell do you mean he's gone  _feral?"_ Jason exclaimed in disbelief. Dick winced, never taking his eyes off the younger boy.

"He's half insane right now, even if he does register who we are, he probably won't trust anything he sees," Dick explained. "It's something we all go through, it's how they start to brainwash us," he choked.

Jason's face contorted in disgust before turning back to the boy. "Tim? Tim?! It's Jason, it's me," he called pleadingly. "Can you see me?!"

Tim's half dead eyes flickered up and lingered on Jason's face for one long, still moment.

"Tim?" Jason called again hopefully. Cobb snorted and Dick closed his eyes in sorrow, preparing for what was about to happen.

"They're dead, boy," Cobb knelt down and whispered into Tim's ear. "They're just ghosts, you know that. They would never come back for you, you said it yourself, they'd kill you first. Kill them," he commanded. "Kill them before they kill you."

"You monster," Dick snarled, eyes burning as Cobb grinned. Tim's lips drew back into an angry hiss before he suddenly jumped, blade poised readily in his hand straight for Jason's throat.Jason was rooted to the spot in hesitation so Dick was forced to shove him down and slam Tim across the room into the wall of the cement tunnel. He slumped to the ground momentarily before pulling himself back up and coiling to strike again just as Jason threw up his arms in defense.

Cobb laughed, drawing Dick's attention. Jason could handle Tim, but Cobb... Cobb could only be taken down by Dick.

 

"I'm going to kill you, William," Dick promised with a growl, drawing his dual blades.

"You've never beaten me before, are you sure you're up to the task?" Cobb mocked with a sneer.

"Draw your weapons, old man!" Dick snarled.

"Your funeral," he shrugged, before digging in his pockets and yanking out his own custom made weapons; brass knuckles welded expertly to cruel looking serrated knives. He slid them on easily and waved him forward challenging.If he died, this was Cobb's way of letting him know it would not be quick.

That's fine, he decided. As long as he took the bastard with him. With that, he raised his swords high and swung forward straight for his grandfather.

............

"Tim, stop!" Jason shouted, stopping the blade from sinking into his heart and grabbing Tim's wrist.

Tim was trembling and shrieking like an animal as Jason called his name and would not listen to reason.

"Tim, p-please, don't make me fight you," Jason begged, strained with effort as Tim tried to slash him again and again. His knees were starting to fail him and turns out the bone he broke earlier was his collar, and it was starting to hinder his movements.

Tim, however, blood soaked and weak as he was from three days of hunger and torment, was relentless and never let up for a second. For a horrifying moment, Jason could almost picture Tim dressed in black assassin garb with cruel yellow eyes, but he desperately shook it away.

Tim's eyes were bloodshot and half hazy, but not murderous. He could still be saved, he had to be saved.

"Tim, I'm so sorry," Jason choked as he blocked another rush from Tim. "I'm sorry for letting you get hurt." Tim's response was a broken sob as he charged once again.

"No matter what you did, you never deserved this," he murmured ducking his head under a very well aimed jab for his eye.

"I just want you to know that me and Dick? Our lives were saved because of you. You gave us a second chance, Tim, that was all you," Jason forced out, catching Tim's wrist an inch before the blade pierced his skin.

"I just want to do the same for you," Jason swallowed thickly before disarming Tim and letting the blade clatter to the floor. Tim became very still now and Jason could see now that, half-mad as they were, his eyes were locked on him now, and they were leaking tears  down his filthy face.

"I love you, Tim," he whispered softly before kneeling down and picking the knife back up. Tim was shaking hard now and Jason knelt down to look up at him. He let go of Tim's wrist and bent down to pick the blade up only to shove it right back into Tim's hand, aimed directly at his throat.

"If you truly believe I'm here to kill you, or that I'm not real, then kill me now, because I've already lost you. But if you'll just fight a little longer with me, I'll get you out of here," Jason promised quietly, waiting now in silence as Tim held his breath above him.

"Please," Jason begged, letting a tear slide down his own cheek now.

"J-Jason," Tim choked, dropping the knife and coughing and sobbing once as he collapsed onto Jason's shoulders.

Jason wrapped his arms around the boy's thin torso and hugged him tightly.

"I- I thought you were-"

"I'm not," Jason interrupted. "And I'll tell you what happened later. Right now we're pressed for time and Dick needs our help," Jason pointed out, nodded toward the two Talons gravely.

Tim frowned and turned toward them in horror. Cobb had Dick backed up to the wall and was dodging every strike from the dual blades. He wasn't even fighting back, Jason realized with a frown. No, he was looking for an opening. If Dick slipped up even once- Jason didn't like the look of those brass knuckle-knives.

Just as they were standing to their feet, Cobb feinted left and no sooner had Dick striked when Jason saw what Cobb was waiting for; Dick had exposed his right side. Before Jason could cry out a warning, Cobb took the shot and he heard the crack of the man's ribs as the knuckles made contact. Dick seemed surprised before he felt the pain, giving Cobb another opening to his face. He punched up underneath Dick's chin, breaking his jaw on contact before finally, as Dick's arms dropped down, he slammed the serrated blade directly into Dick's heart. A soundless cry escaped Dick's lips and Jason and Tim were screaming as he fell.

"Dick, no!"

"Get up, Dick, you have to get up!"

Cobb smirked at them as he twisted the blade in Dick's chest before yanking it out with a painful scream from his grandson, who slumped over as blood pooled the floor.

"Did you really think this disgrace could beat the man who trained him? Who trained generations of Talons?!" He laughed. Dick groaned pitifully on the ground and Jason and Tim stood frozen in place.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll take back my apprentice now. If you have any sense you'll finish Richard off and then yourself if you want a relatively painless death," he instructed, stepping forward. Jason glared angrily and stepped forward to fight.

"You won't touch him," he growled dangerously.

"I don't have to," he arched a brow with a grin. "Do I, Timothy?" Jason turned toward Tim with confusion only to discover Tim is grinning maliciously, pointing the blade directly at him.

"It was cute the way you begged me to kill you. Boy did I have to resist the urge, too. But the look on your pathetic face is worth it," Tim snickered, causing Jason's gut to drop through the floor.

"You-" he choked in disbelief.

"The Tim you knew is dead and gone, you've wasted your time. You both did," he bragged cruelly, sucking all the fight out of Jason in an instant.

"I'm Talon now. My master is right," Tim explained, stepping toward Cobb like an obedient puppy. "If you have any sense, you'll end it quick, because _I will not,_ " he turned to Dick with a sneer.

"Good boy," Cobb hummed approvingly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Jason glowered at Cobb and Tim in a mixture of pain and disbelief, to which Tim smiled.

"Oh, don't worry Hood. I'll always remember you as my first _real_ teacher," he implored seriously before pausing thoughtfully and turning to glance at Dick's writhing form on the ground. "Well," he amended. "Second." Then something truly curious happened; Tim, with the biggest beaming smile on his face turned to face Cobb.

"But you, Master, taught me the most important thing of all," he tilted his head, stepping forward.

"Oh?" Cobb arched a brow with flattered interest.

"Oh yes," Tim nodded earnestly.

"What's that, then?" Cobb asked, eyes never leaving Tim.  Jason was confused and angry and when he met eyes with Dick trying to make sense of things...That's when it all clicked.

Tim leaned up on tiptoes just to reach the ashen man's ear. "Don't believe in _anyone_ ," Tim whispered, before slamming the blade of his knife into Cobb's throat. Cobb gurgled in nasty shock and tried to jerk back, but Tim held him fast.

"Now, Dick!" Tim cried out. To Jason's astonishment, Dick rose to his feet, staggering a little but otherwise pretty well off considering what should have been a mortal wound. Dick grabbed the dual blades and Tim released the struggling Cobb only to have him fall flat on his back. Dick appeared above him with a bruised, triumphant face.

"You wouldn't," Cobb gurgled out as blood filled his throat.

"Just for you, grandfather," he whispered hoarsely before raising his blade high and ending the life of William Cobb once and for all.

For a moment, the three of them were completely still, but when Dick looked up at his two partners, Tim rushed toward him and crashed into him with a tight embrace. Dick cried out in pain and Tim withdrew immediately.

"Sorry, I thought you were healed," he admitted meakly. Dick coughed and grinned.

"Mostly. There was a lot of damage to my heart tissue and it's still scarring over. I'll be fine, it's just... _tender_ ," he wheezed out. Jason released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and suddenly burst into laughter. The other two turned to stare at him, questioning his sanity and Jason sighed out in relief.

"It's over," Jason blinked almost in disbelief. "We're free." Tim grinned warily and nodded.

"You were....brilliant, by the way," Jason admitted to the boy. "You had me going there."

Tim blushed, ashamed and flattered at the same time. "I- I'm sorry, I just...when I realized Dick was still alive, I needed a clear shot, that way Dick could finish him off."

"You did amazing," Dick reassured happily. "Just never do it again, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tim agreed before a sudden thought caused his forehead to crease in a frown.

"How did you get here? Is there a way out?" he inquired. Jason and Dick winced as they looked at each other.

"We had help," Dick admitted. "They may still be fighting the others as we speak, clearing the way out."

"Oh," Tim blinked. "Okay. Who's helping? Is it Roy?" Tim turned to ask Jason. "You said there was more than one though, who else-" he suddenly fell quiet as the realization hit him.

" _Oh_ ," he repeated. "Batman." Dick and Jason nodded. Tim considered this for a moment before finally asking.

"What happened?"

.....................................................

All was silent back at the cave. It was empty now, save Bruce and Tim. Talia had gone the moment the Talons were extinguished, but promising to see Bruce again before she left town. Red Arrow and Bruce had stormed after Dick and Jason about 20 minutes after they ran off and were relieved to find the last Talon dead and Tim was more or less safe in the arms of Dick and Jason. He was angry, however, when he spotted Batman, after he found out that he had exiled Dick and Jason in exchange for his safety. He screamed for about 10 straight minutes before threatening to reveal his identity again, which, thankfully, Dick and Jason put a stop to and convinced him it was for the best. As soon as they were out of the sewers, it was time for Dick and Jason to leave, as agreed. Tim watched them go after a long and rather awkward-to-watch embrace. Red Arrow skipped out, too, as he was not too eager to be questioned by Batman. Batman would find him later, but at that moment, he just wanted to get Tim confined to safety so he could be rehabilitated and watched over to make sure he didn't try anything.

Tim refused to speak with him the entire ride back.

"Tim," Bruce finally broke the silence as they stepped out of the car. "I know you're upset, but-"

"No, Bruce, you really don't know," Tim snapped back sourly, slamming the door as he stepped out of the Batmobile. "You're imprisoning me again and you sent away the only two people I've ever been close to!"

Bruce peeled back his cowl to reveal his face and knelt down to the same level as Tim's unnervingly malnourished face. "I sent them to get help for themselves. That was the agreement. As for you, that kind of life, it's-"

"Who are you to tell me what I should do with _my_ life?" he spurted back, slapping him away and turning his back.

"I'm not telling you what to do, I'm asking you," Bruce objected. "I'm offering you a chance, Tim," he added softly this time, almost pleading. This caught Tim's attention.

"What chance, Bruce?" he asked cautiously, turning back to face him. Bruce took a long breath of air before sighing and meeting Tim's eyes.

"You don't have to go back to your parents... despite your age you've grown up far past your own age. I don't really have a say in your life, that's true. But what I do have is a home for you. Here," he urged seriously, making Tim's eyes bulge. "We can erase your criminal record, you can go back to being Tim Drake, I can help you, I can _train_ you if you want, if you feel you're too far gone for a normal life. All I ask is that you let them go, Tim. For your own sake. Please." Tim dropped his gaze to the floor and considered Bruce's words. This was the chance of a lifetime. He'd spent years hiding from Bruce out of fear, but now the man was giving him a real chance. Bruce was offering him now the only thing he'd ever really wanted; a Home. A place he belonged.

"You're really serious?" he asked quietly, staring Bruce down for any trace of hesitation. Bruce nodded seriously and clapped a gauntlet covered hands on Tim's shoulder.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Tim." The two of them fell silent and Tim stared intently down at the cave floor. The only sound to be heard was the soft chirp of bats high above in the darkness.

"I'll let you think about it," Bruce conceded before standing up and turning away. "I'm going upstairs to shower and change. I'll send Alfred down with some food, okay?" he called. Tim nodded silently and watched as Bruce disappeared into the elevator that would take him up to the manor above.

Alfred was down ten minutes later with a warm smile and a tray of hot soup, which Tim was almost tempted to refuse before his stomach whined in protest. Tim drained it in one go and devoured the delicious buttered toast Alfred left to the side as well. He forgotten how long it had been since he had eaten and it felt good to get something in his stomach again.

"Would you like another, young sir?" Alfred offered politely. Tim shook his head with a small grunt as he downed the glass of water on the tray.

"No. Thank you, I'm fine," he assured gratefully. After insisting and reassuring Alfred that he felt astronomically better, Alfred finally bullied him into accepting another bowl of soup and Tim sighed as he handed the tray back to Alfred in defeat.

"I'll just wait here then," he conceded with a smile to which Alfred nodded, pleased, before disappearing into the elevator to go make another bowl. Tim sighed. He really could make a home here...he could become truly fond of Bruce as well as Alfred and put his skills to actual good use for himself and for the city. But his chest ached when he thought of Dick and Jason. What would they really be doing? Would they miss him the same way he's missing them now?

It wasn't fair, finally getting them both in a moment of freedom only to have them ripped away from him again in an instant by the same person who was offering him a real home.

He'd never have a real home if he pursued the two men; hell, there's no guarantee they even went to the same place after they left the city, he may never find them again. But if he stayed, he'd never have a chance to feel the way he did when he was with the two of them again, he'd never feel as  _alive_ as they made him feel. Tim groaned and wrapped his arms around himself comfortingly and curled up into the big chair in front of the super computer.

He had to make a decision. Whatever it was, he had to make it now, or forever hold his peace. He closed his eyes and for once in his life, a sudden, white clarity washed over him and he knew. They would understand, he knew they would. Tim opened his eyes wide and turned toward the computer with a smile as he took the first step to his new life.

.........................

Bruce never showered long, an tonight was no exception, even with all of the mud, sewage and blood covering him. Alfred, bless him, had already removed the suit and stood there waiting with a clean white towel in his hand, which Bruce accepted gratefully.

"I have some news from Master Timothy," Alfred began as Bruce toweled himself off. Bruce grunted that he was listening and Alfred continued on.

"He left a note," Bruce froze at the words and sighed in defeat. So Tim had decided to leave. "But he writes that he wants you to know...he'll always thank you for giving him a family and hopes that if you allow, he may come back some day, if you'll accept his life choices. Both of them," Alfred explained in amusement. Bruce almost smiled, too.

"Thank you, Alfred," he muttered quietly.

"Shall I track him down, Master Bruce?" Alfred offered quietly.

"No," Bruce shook his head. "We can't stop him even if we did find him again, he knows what he wants."

"Mm. If I may say so, sir, they're not bad boys. Strange, and perhaps misguided, but they all have good hearts. Master Tim will be just fine." Bruce snorted softly at the butler's kind words.

"I hope so. Thank you, Alfred." With that, the butler nodded and left him to his thoughts alone.

He dried his hair swiftly and wrapped the cloth around his waist as he headed in towards his bedroom for clothes. He had reached the dresser and just as he was about to pull the drawer open, a shadow in the corner of his eye made him freeze.

"Talia," he called, when he caught a whiff of her exotic perfume. He heard her laugh and there she was, sitting on the edge of his bed looking like she had spent the night at a beauty salon rather than in a sewer fighting for her life for the last half of the night.

"Hello, Beloved," she replied simply, standing to her feet. Bruce's grip around his towel tightened uncomfortably as she approached him.

"Oh, come on now, none of that. This is a friendly visit," she insisted softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bruce pressed his lips together hesitantly before nodding that he was listening.

"If you recall, you owe me a favor, my darling," she purred placing a kiss on his stiff cheek. Bruce sighed and nodded.

"You've come to collect?" he asked quietly. Talia nodded.

"I have something very precious to me that I want to to protect while I take care of something overseas," she began, much to Bruce's surprise.

"Okay?" Bruce furrowed his brows together in confusion. "What is it that I need to protect, exactly?" Some priceless artifact, a dangerous weapon, a lazarus pit in Gotham? He was going to give himself an ulcer trying to guess. You never know with Talia.

She suddenly turned away from him and spoke into the darkness. "Damian, my love, you can come out now and say hello to him."

Bruce fought the urge to recoil- this was going to be a _person_? No...not  a person, he realized as a shadow emerged from his closet. A _child_.

"Our child, Beloved," Talia whispered soothingly into his ear.

"Father," the boy smirked, crossing his arms and sizing him up. He wore simple black robes like his mother and shared her sun-kissed skin tone as well. But the dark hair and steel gray eyes were unmistakable and Bruce's jaw dropped as he realized the truth.

_"I thought you'd be taller."_

....................


	18. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy final, triple update! Thank you all so much for reading along, and I truly, truly hope you've all enjoyed :)

(Six months later)

It was warm and sunny outside today; a happy change from the dank, overcast Gotham and instead of buildings and cars lining all the way to the horizon, there was blue ocean and white sand as far as the eye could see. Tim hummed and stretched languidly in the sheets bumping his lovers ever so slightly, causing Jason to yawn tiredly.

"Five more minutes," he groaned, curling around Tim's body like a small child would, except -you know- he was huge and dwarfed over him entirely. Tim giggled and squirmed underneath him and Jason's grip tightened greedily.

"Jaaaaay, it's _noon_ already," Tim whined, causing Jason to crack a smile.

"Goody, that means I can get in another hour or two," he mumbled back in response.

"Oh come on, Jaybird," Dick suddenly cooed, peering over Tim's shoulder and pressing a fond kiss onto his cheek. "It's gorgeous outside, let's go!" Jason grimaced and shook his head like stubborn baby. Tim looked up at Dick into his sea-blue eyes and they both grinned.

"I know how to wake you up," Dick hummed suspiciously, causing Jason to crack an eye open in distrust. He was pleasantly surprised however, when instead of a splash of water or a wet willie, he was met with a soft, wet kiss from the man. Jason moaned happily and returned the kiss. Dick tangled his fingers into Jason's dark hair and Jason pulled the man clean over Tim and onto his lap. Tim watched with interest and traced circles into Jason's shoulder and Dick deepened the kiss, biting his lip and tracing along it with his tongue. Jason showed his appreciation by squeezing the man's ass and pressing a kiss into his warm neck.

"I want some," Tim pouted, tugging at Jason's shoulder. Jason pulled away from Dick's neck and was all too happy to pull Tim's mouth together with his own. Dick occupied himself now by leaving a trail of kisses  all over Jason's chest, licking lavishly at the nipples and working his way slowly down and around by nosing and sucking on Jason's sharp hip bones and kissing feather light along the inside of his thighs. Jason shivered and broke away from Tim to stare down with with dark, needing eyes. Tim kissed Jason's jaw and nibbled on his ear before exchanging a brief glance of invitation from Dick. Tim hummed and bit down Jason's neck one last time before crawling down to meet Dick, who was still mercilessly teasing around Jason's painfully hardened shaft.

Dick claimed Tim's mouth and kissed him almost delicately, making sure to lavish plenty of tongue and teeth and put on a hell of a show for Jason. He had to swat Jason's hand away a couple of time's too, since he tried to take himself in hand at their little show of affection. After Dick was done kissing he hummed and gestured down to Jason's waiting, leaking cock and Tim nodded vehemently with excitement.Tim shifted just enough so that Jason still had a phenomenal view of his ass, but he had much better access to lean down to meet Dick at Jason's shaft and lick a long, thick stripe up the side together. Jason shivered and Tim felt him grab his ass and squeeze encouragingly. Dick, too, had one of Jason's hands on him, petting his hair and grasping his neck in a silent plea.

Dick and Tim licked his cock again before kissing sloppily when they met above the tip. Jason groaned huskily and bucked his hips ever so slightly. Dick bent down to lick one of his balls lovingly and Tim bent down to follow his lead and in the next second, they were licking and sucking and pawing all over him. Jason hummed with pleasure above them and Tim felt Jason's fingers edging slowly along his ass until he started teasing his along his entrance; a not so subtle sign that Jason was ready to go further. Tim, however, still wanted to play. He lifted his head up and left Dick to his work and chose now to tease his tongue over Jason's tip lovingly, earning a moan and a single one of Jay's fingers sliding inside of him encouragingly. Tim shuddered with pleasure and lifted his ass up more to let Jason play while he took the tip of the man's cock into his mouth with a moan.

He bobbed his head slowly, enjoying the unique taste as always as he swirled his tongue down and around. Dick stopped what he was doing temporarily just to watch as Tim moved with appreciation.

"Oh, baby, you look so good," he murmured, running his fingers through Tim's hair and encouraging him to go further down. Tim whined at the appreciation and let Dick guide him, eager to impress just as much as he was for the man's touch. Jason slid another digit inside him in all the excitement and Tim keened, which drew Dick's attention.

"Oh, you're starting without me," he pouted. Jason grinned and added another finger, earning a throaty whine from Tim, which in turn made Jason moan.

"You're welcome to help me," Jason struggled out, matching the rhythm of his fingers to Tim's bobbing head. Dick accepted the invitation with a hum of excitement and crawled carefully around the pile of bodies until Tim's ass was lifted up and waiting right in front of him. Jason withdrew his fingers for dick and Tim whimpered in displeasure at the loss.

"Shh, babybird, he's gonna take care of you," Jason cooed soothingly. Tim grunted over Jason's cock and spread his legs for Dick as if to say _pretty please_?

Dick sucked in a breath and felt his own cock throb with desire, but that could wait. Instead, he lowered himself down and nuzzled between the boys cheeks gently. Tim gasped below him when he realized what was coming and he could feel the boy shake with excitement. Dick's tongue snaked between his lips to caress Tim's entrance affectionately. Tim's hips jerked in response and Dick grabbed on to steady him fast. He licked a slow stripe over the hole before teasing it with the tip and planting wet kisses all over the insides of his cheeks. Tim crooned underneath him and Dick finally pushed his tongue past the ring of muscle and sucked lavishly once he was inside.

" _Holy god_ ," Tim pulled off Jason's cock with a slick _pop_ as he lost himself to Dick's talented, wicked tongue.

Jason, now that he was free, jacked himself off a few times before pushing himself up and trying to decide who and where he wanted to go to this time. Tim's eyes were closed in bliss and his face now pressed tiredly into the sheets and Dick pleasured him. Dick himself, the egotistical bastard, watched him with those piercing blue eyes (not as sharp as the yellow had been, but even more beautiful than he could have imagined once the surgery removed the mutating enzymes) challenging and showing off for his as his tongue danced all over Tim like it was some kind of art form that only he had mastered. Oh yeah, Jason knew what he wanted to do. He was behind Dick in an instant palming all over his ass and balls as he worked over Tim. They both knew that Jason was challenging him to keep that cocky look on his face now, just like Dick was challenging him to do his worst.

Jason was still palming Dick's throbbing cock with one hand, and with the other, sliding in a  freshly slicked finger from a spare canister of lube from underneath their pillows. Dick twitched, but otherwise continued rimming Tim to high heaven and waiting expectantly for Jason to continue. Jason slid in another and curled his fingers rhythmically as he began to move them in and out. By the time he inserted the third, he decided to slide his free hand up Dick's side and tweak one of his nipples teasingly. That got his attention, Jason smiled as the man stuttered and gasped lightly in his work. Jason tweaked it again and circled around it to the same rhythm of his stretching fingers until Dick not-so-subtly began to sink himself down on his fingers in a rhythm of his own, fucking himself on Jason's hand. Jason was thrilled at the new development, but Dick's face, though flushed, still had a little fight left in it. He was _still_ showing off, Jason realized.

A smirk spread on his face as he withdrew his fingers, earning a questioning pout from Dick. Jason ignored his look and spread the man's legs apart. Dick's eyes went wide with excitement and he bucked his ass up as Jason guided himself to Dick's well-prepared entrance. He pressed himself in agonizingly slow for Dick, just to prove a point, and when he slid himself in just enough to engulf the tip, he suddenly grabbed hold of Dick's perfectly poised ass and fucked his way all the way in. Dick lost it, abandoning his work on Tim with a gasp and fucking himself backward onto Jason's cock with need. Jason met every thrust with vigor and a rough clap of skin. He even winked at Tim when the boy crawled out from under Dick and turned to take them in. Tim groaned and fell into the pillows, jacking himself off as his lovers fucked themselves in front of him.

Dick recovered enough to notice Tim watching them and reached out to drag Tim down at least until his cock was level with Dick's face, and-

" _Oh_ ," Tim moaned as Dick didn't hesitate to suck in Tim's flushed cock. Tim laid back on both elbows and threw his head back as he once again enjoyed one of the many talents of Dick Grayson's mouth.

Jason shivered and hummed gratefully at the aesthetic, but it was time for a change to race to the finish line. He pulled out of Dick quickly and the man whined as Jason planted a quick kiss on his rear.

"Turn over," he instructed breathlessly. Dick obeyed and flipped onto his back. Jason turned toward Tim and offered him a hand up.

"C'mere baby," he invited, and Tim accepted his hand and crawled to meet him over Dick's body.

"Turn around with your back toward me- yeah, just like that," Jason murmured huskily as Tim switched to straddle over Dick's waist. Dick pulled him down for a greedy kiss, which Jason was content to watch for a second until he pulled Tim back. Tim whined poutily and Jason hushed him with a kiss to the boy's shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay, just back up a little bit- there, do you feel him?" Tim keened when Jason led him back to feel Dick's throbbing cock against his ass. Tim shifted up and let the tip press against his entrance, making Dick clasp the boy's thighs in mindless lust.

"Yeah, just like that, there you go," Jason whispered, encouraging Tim to sink down on Dick slowly until he was fully seated.

"Fuck, yeah," Jason hissed with pleasure at the sight as Tim began to roll his hips up and down, riding Dick into the goddamn sunset. Jason interrupted only for a minute when he pulled the two of them closer and pulled Dick's ass into his lap only to push his cock right back inside him where it should be.

Dick's noises were hardly human any more, and his eyes were shut tight, mouth agape with absolute bliss. Tim was still going strong, and Jason pressed the boy closer to him, jerking him off to their own synchronized rhythm as they fucked Dick into oblivion together.

Dick, obviously, came first, head lolling to the side and practically singing as his orgasm hit. Jason followed not two seconds later, spilling everything he had inside of Dick. Tim fucked forward into Jason's still clenched hand and withing seconds, he gasped and went rigid, too.

How long they let themselves lay there, buzzed from the pleasure in the warm, noon sun they couldn't tell. But what they could tell you is they had mornings like that all the time. And afternoons. And nights. And they weren't about to question their strange relationship with each other, either. L-words sometimes get slipped, but none of them minded and all of them meant it each time. They were free, they were content to be with each other and they always would be.


End file.
